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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 


aon V 2 









































THE RANEE’S RUBY 


By Nina Brown Baker 

THE SECRET OF HALLAM HOUSE 
THE CHINESE RIDDLE 
THE RANEE’S RUBY 









/ 














The floors had sagged away, leaving cracks that might shelter 

the jewel. 































THE RANEE’S RUBY 


BY 

NINA BROWN BAKER 

i) 


ILLUSTRATED BY 
ERICK BERRY 



) 



BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE AND SHEPARD COMPANY 

1935 


c- 

















t 






Copyright, 1935, by 


LOTHROP, LEE AND SHEPARD COMPANY 

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be re¬ 
produced in any form without permission in writing 
from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes 
to quote brief passages in connection with a review 
written for inclusion in magazine or newspaper. 


Published October, 1935. 


PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 





/ 


FOR SYDNEY 









CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I 

Hollingsworth Hall 

PAGE 

3 

II 

Valerie 

12 

III 

The Locked Chamber 

26 

IV 

Inside 

41 

V 

The Princess Roshanara 

51 

VI 

The Quest Begins 

69 

VII 

Dr. Marcus 

79 

VIII 

As Dorcas Saw It 

85 

IX 

The Torn Letter 

94 

X 

Mother India 

108 

XI 

What Does It Mean? 

117 

XII 

Never Give Up! 

128 

XIII 

Something About Kumari 

135 

XIV 

The Old Spring House 

143 

XV 

The Sacred Pool of Hamir 

155 

XVI 

Pacts and Guesses 

169 

XVII 

Valiant Valerie 

180 

XVIII 

The Jeweled Cave 

195 

XIX 

Where the Little Boats Go 

201 

XX 

Two Months Later 

210 










ILLUSTRATIONS 


The floors had sagged away , leaving cracks 

that might shelter the jewel Frontispiece 

Valerie 25 

“ Rosemary, do you think she has a secret?" 35 

Rosemary 40 

Miss Lucia 50 

Dorcas 78 

“Oh, Valerie, he careful, there 9 s a hig crack 
in the floor!" 145 

“Oh, my goodness — why did you have to wake 
up?" 183 

“Of course I can swim, silly!" 189 


XI 












THE RANEE S RUBY 






CHAPTER I 

HOLLINGSWORTH HALL 

The rattling taxi turned in between blistered 
white wooden posts and wheezed its way up a 
sweeping semicircular drive, bordered with 
enormous old catalpa trees. 

Hollingsworth Hall, though somewhat in 
want of repair, was a stately Southern home 
of “before-the-war” days. Its mellow red 
bricks were almost hidden by twining ivy. 
The rounded portico was supported by grace¬ 
ful white pillars reaching past the second-story 
windows. Great trees pressed close about it, 
and a bed of red geraniums blazed on either 
side of the open door. 

Rosemary Lovell broke her shy silence im¬ 
pulsively. “Why, it’s a house! I thought it 
was a school.” 

The girl beside her lifted her eyebrows. 
“Dr. Bowman told us that Hollingsworth Hall 

s 


4 


THE RANEES RUBY 

was originally a private home, I believe.” 

“Oh, yes, I’d forgotten that.” Rosemary 
blushed furiously. 

Something about the cool, clipped accents 
of this Eastern girl made her feel crude and 
awkward. It wasn’t just the beautiful clothes, 
the exquisite grooming; it wasn’t even the 
awed whisper of the little nurse which had told 
her that this girl’s father was “a big New York 
millionaire.” Rosemary had too much sturdy 
independence to be impressed by mere wealth, 
rare as had been her contacts with it. But 
Valerie Porter was so poised, so self-assured, 
so grown-up, though she could have been no 
more than a few months older than Rosemary 
herself. They had met for the first time this 
morning, and already Rosemary was begin¬ 
ning to wish — 

Valerie’s voice interrupted her thoughts. 
“That must be Miss Lucia Hollingsworth in 
the doorway. She seems quite to match the 
house, doesn’t she?” 

Rosemary turned her eyes to the quaint 
little figure at the open door. 

Miss Lucia Hollingsworth wore lilac silk, 
its full skirt sweeping from a tiny waist to 


HOLLINGSWORTH HALL 5 

fall to the ground in stiff rustling folds. 
Around her slender shoulders was a fichu of 
finest lawn, edged with yellowed old lace and 
held by a big cameo brooch. Her white hair 
was parted in the middle and drawn primly 
back, but little rebellious curls had escaped to 
frame the small face — a lovely face still, for 
all its seventy years. The withered cheeks 
were faintly pink, and the blue eyes were 
young and alive. 

As the taxi came to a stop she hurried 
toward them with light tripping steps. 

“My dear girls — welcome to Hollingsworth 
Hall! Just put the bags down on the porch, 
Eli. Jefferson will take them in. Now let 
me see — which of you is which?” 

“I am Valerie Porter, Miss Hollingsworth. 
Just a moment, while I pay the man.” 

Rosemary had been fumbling in her purse, 
but Valerie paid the fare and dismissed the 
driver with her customary air of cool efficiency. 
She turned then to her hostess with a polite 
smile. 

“It’s good of you to take me in. I expected 
to stay at the Sanitarium with Father, but 
Dr. Bowman tells me that it is absolutely 



6 THE RANEES RUBY 

against his ridiculous rules. And there doesn’t 
seem to be a decent hotel in the place.” 

“I expect you will find Dr. Bowman’s rules 
are very wise ones, when you come to know 
him better,” Miss Lucia answered mildly, and 
Rosemary gave a little inward chuckle. It 
was very evident that Valerie was accustomed 
to having her own way; it was equally evident 
that imperious young ladies were no novelty 
to Miss Lucia. 

“And our hotel is really quite comfortable,” 
the little lady went on, leading the way into the 
dim, lavender-scented parlor. “But of course 
for a young girl — I think Dr. Bowman said 
you were sixteen, my dear? — for a young girl 
unchaperoned it would be most unsuitable.” 

Valerie smiled rather scornfully, and opened 
her mouth to speak. But Miss Lucia ap¬ 
peared not to notice, for she turned at once 
to Rosemary. 

“Sit here, my dear, you look tired. You 
had an overnight trip with your little brother, 
didn’t you?” 

“A day and night both. We live in Kan¬ 
sas, Miss Hollingsworth. It — it was pretty 
hard. Timmy’s in quite a bit of pain, you see, 


HOLLINGSWORTH HALL 7 

and he’s so little. Oh, Miss Hollingsworth, do 
you think they can help him here? Do you? 
We’ve tried everything for him, Mums and I, 
and this is about the last hope.” 

Under Miss Lucia’s kind eyes Rosemary had 
forgotten her usual reserve; forgotten, too, the 
presence of the stranger girl. Her own gray 
eyes had filled with tears; she fixed them 
anxiously upon the face of the little lady op¬ 
posite her. 

Miss Lucia took her hand and patted it 
softly. “You mustn’t distress yourself, my 
dear. I’ve known Dr. Bowman for many 
years, and I’ve seen some miracles performed 
there at the Sanitarium. What did he say 
about your brother?” 

“Oh, he was very encouraging, he really 
was! I had a long letter for him from our 
own doctor. You see, it was just last winter 
that Timmy had infantile paralysis, and we 
thought he had it very lightly. But it left 
his legs — it’s dreadful, Miss Hollingsworth! 
He’s only six, you know, and he was so ac¬ 
tive — he never liked to sit still — oh, I don’t 
see how I can bear it if Timmy isn’t going 
to be able to run again!” 


8 


THE RANEE’S RUBY 

“Hush, child. You aren’t answering my 
question. What did Dr. Bowman say?” 

Rosemary wiped her eyes and tried to smile. 
“He said everything was in Timmy’s favor, 
and with the baths, and the massage, and ev¬ 
erything, he’d have him on his feet again be¬ 
fore fall. That’s what he said . He was quite 
positive about it. But — ” 

“Then that’s what he meant,” Miss Lucia 
pronounced firmly. “Dr. Bowman doesn’t 
hold out idle hopes, I can tell you that. So 
just forget all your worries, and know that 
your little brother is in good hands, and that 
he’s going to be well again. Do you plan to 
stay here the whole summer?” 

“Yes, I think so,” Rosemary answered more 
calmly. “You see, there are just the three of 
us, Mums and Timmy and me. Mums 
couldn’t come. She’s the editor and publisher 
of a country newspaper, and it takes all her 
time. She can’t afford to neglect it, and she 
knows that I’ll do all I can to keep Timmy 
from being homesick.” 

“I’m sure you will.” Miss Lucia gave her 
hand an approving little pat, and turned to 
Valerie. The Eastern girl had seated herself 



HOLLINGSWORTH HALL 9 

quietly and was looking about the old-fash¬ 
ioned parlor, apparently quite uninterested in 
the conversation. 

“It’s your father who is ill, my dear?” 

Valerie nodded; rather indifferently, Rose¬ 
mary thought. “Arthritis, and a threatened 
nervous breakdown. Our doctor in New York 
picked this place — I’m sure I don’t know why. 
I never even heard of Arkansas till I went to 
get our tickets! I suppose I’ll have to endure 
it for the entire summer.” 

Miss Lucia’s quiet gaze scanned the girl’s 
face. “It seems a pity for you to stay here 
if you dislike it. Perhaps some other mem¬ 
ber of your family — ” 

“There aren’t any other members. Father 
and I are alone,” Valerie answered shortly. 
“May I go to my room now? I’d like a bath 
before dinner.” 

“Certainly.” Miss Lucia got to her feet, 
and touched an old-fashioned velvet bell-rope 
which hung beside the mantel. “Dorcas will 
take you both upstairs. I’ve given you ad¬ 
joining rooms. I hope you will be company 
for each other. It’s too bad you didn’t come 
earlier, when school was in session — I had a 


10 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

lovely houseful of girls this year, — but of 
course it’s vacation time now.” 

A middle-aged negro woman appeared in 
the doorway, wearing a clean print dress and 
a spotless white kerchief on her head. 

“These are the young ladies Dr. Bowman 
sent us, Dorcas. Miss Rosemary has a little 
brother at the Springs, and Miss Valerie’s 
father is there. Doctor thought they’d be 
more comfortable with us than at the hotel, 
and we’ll try to make them feel at home. Will 
you show them their rooms, please?” 

“Yes’m, Miss Lucia.” Dorcas’s voice was 
as soft as Miss Lucia’s own; her comely brown 
face was both intelligent and pleasant. “Jef¬ 
ferson has done took the bags upstairs. Ef’n 
you-all will step this way, young ladies — ” 

Miss Lucia held out a slender white hand 
to each. “We have dinner at six, girls — 
though we call it supper, as every one does 
here. You’ll have to get used to that! 
There’ll be time for a little nap if you wish. 
And — don’t look so woebegone, please! It’s 
all new and strange, I know, and you’re wor¬ 
ried about your dear ones, but everything will 
come right, you can depend upon it. Dr. 


HOLLINGSWORTH HALL 11 

Bowman doesn’t accept patients he can’t help; 
just remember that for your comfort.” 

As they ascended the stairs behind Dorcas, 
Rosemary stole a wondering look at Valerie. 
She herself was quite conscious of looking woe¬ 
begone, but surely it was a queer word to ap¬ 
ply to the other girl? Why, she hadn’t even 
seemed sorry when she spoke of her father’s 
illness! She was walking now with her chin 
up, a slightly disdainful smile on her lips, her 
cool eyes taking in the old-fashioned furniture 
as though, Rosemary thought, she were used 
to something a great deal better. 

“Stuck-up”, Rosemary thought, was a far 
better word than “woebegone” to describe this 
new acquaintance. 

Oh, well, what did it matter? The fact 
that they were living in the same house didn’t 
mean that she need see much of Valerie. She 
noted the absurdly high heels clicking on the 
stairs ahead of her; caught a waft of Parisian 
perfume. “And if I don’t see anything, it’ll 
be too much!” Rosemary confided to herself. 


CHAPTER II 
VALERIE 

By the time a week had passed Rosemary be¬ 
gan to feel that she had lived at Hollingsworth 
Hall for months. The strain of her little 
brother’s illness had fallen heavily upon the 
girl; the long days and nights of anxious 
worry had left her more tired than she real¬ 
ized. Now, with Timmy settled comfortably 
in expert hands, she could relax and claim the 
rest that she so greatly needed. 

She spent her afternoons at Cavern Springs 
Sanitarium, reading or chatting to Timmy as 
he lay in his deck-chair on the wide sunny lawn. 
Visitors were not permitted before noon, and 
at Miss Lucia’s suggestion Rosemary was not 
called for breakfast, but slept far into the 
morning. 

The little lady had been genuinely alarmed 
at her young guest’s thinness and pallor, and 

12 


VALERIE 13 

had immediately set herself with gentle firm¬ 
ness to remedy it. She and Dorcas con¬ 
spired to see that Rosemary ate sufficiently of 
the good, simple food provided, and they ex¬ 
ulted when her first week showed a distinct 
gain in weight and energy. 

As she had frankly hoped, Rosemary saw 
little of her fellow-guest. She and Valerie 
met at the evening meal, that was all. 

Mr. Porter occupied a luxurious suite at 
the Sanitarium, with a private balcony se¬ 
cluded from the other patients. With wilful 
disregard of the rules observed by ordinary 
visitors, Valerie spent most of her time there. 
Timmy’s nurse told Rosemary once that Val¬ 
erie was not too popular with the nurses, who 
resented her air of treating them as servants 
to be ordered about. Miss Martin added that 
in her opinion Mr. Porter’s recovery would 
proceed more rapidly if he were left to him¬ 
self more. But of course these very wealthy 
patients always expected to have everything 
their own way. 

“Wait till Dr. Bowman gets on to her, 
though,” she added darkly. “She’s always as 
sweet as pie to him, and he doesn’t realize yet 


14 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

what a nuisance she’s making of herself. He 
won’t put up with it, you can bet on that!” 

It was a Sunday evening, the second since 
her arrival. Rosemary had watched the sun¬ 
set from the flagged terrace at the side of the 
Hall, where a little group of splint-bottomed 
hickory rocking-chairs invited to lazy repose. 
She had seen Miss Lucia, a picture in lavender 
organdie, flutter off down the street to Vespers 
in the little white church. From the house be¬ 
hind her had come the faint clatter of dishes as 
Dorcas worked in the kitchen, her low rich con¬ 
tralto raised in the mournfully-sweet cadences 
of an ancient spiritual. That had ceased 
presently, and Dorcas and Jefferson, her hus¬ 
band, in their Sunday best, had set off down 
the garden path for the colored “meetin’ 
house.” 

It was dark now, but Rosemary sat on, too 
comfortable to move, drowsily watching the 
first bright Southern stars twinkle out in the 
dark blue sky; drinking in the sweet scent of 
dew-drenched flowers from the old-fashioned 
garden. 

Suddenly a glimmer of white caught her 


VALERIE 15 

eye. Some one was coming slowly up the 
garden path, the short-cut which led to the 
house from a side street. Shadows of over¬ 
hanging trees obscured the face, but Rose¬ 
mary, idly watching, decided that it must he 
one of Miss Lucia’s old-lady friends. She 
walked slowly, her feet lagging, her head 
bowed, her slender shoulders bent as though 
by the weight of years. She came straight 
toward Rosemary, and the girl waited shyly 
for her to speak. Instead, she turned sud¬ 
denly, threw herself into the nearest chair, and 
broke into stormy sobbing. 

“Why, it’s Valerie!” Rosemary exclaimed 
silently. “And she didn’t see me. It’s this 
dark dress, and the shadows — oh, goodness, 
what shall I doV* 

She twisted uncomfortably in her chair. 
Valerie, the self-sufficient, haughty Valerie, 
was sobbing her heart out with no thought of 
an audience. 

Instinctively Rosemary knew that Valerie 
would be furious at finding herself observed. 
Was it possible to steal into the house without 
making a sound? No, it wasn’t. Well, what 
could she do, then? Perhaps if she just sat 


16 THE RANEES RUBY 

very still Valerie would get up and go away 
pretty soon, and never know that — oh, gra¬ 
cious, now she’d done it! She’d made the 
slightest, tiniest movement of her knee, and 
the wretched book in her lap had slid off to 
drop with a resounding thud on the stone flag¬ 
ging. 

Instantly Valerie’s sobs checked; she lifted 
her head and looked about her like a startled 
wild animal. Her eyes fell upon Rosemary, 
and she twisted her lips to the old disdainful 
smile. 

“Oh, it’s you! Snooping and spying — I 
might have guessed! Well, I hope you’ve en¬ 
joyed yourself.” 

“I’m so sorry, Valerie,” Rosemary faltered. 
“I didn’t mean to spy, honestly I didn’t. I 
was here when you came up, and I didn’t re¬ 
alize you hadn’t seen me until — until — ” 

“Until I broke down and made a spectacle 
of myself? Oh, well — I don’t do it often. 
Hope it amused you.” She was making a 
valiant effort to regain her usual off-hand man¬ 
ner, but there was a forlorn quaver in her voice, 
and the hands with which she touched her dis¬ 
ordered hair were shaking. 




VALERIE 17 

On an impulse which she did not stop to 
question, Rosemary left her chair and took the 
one next to the other girl. Through the dark¬ 
ness Valerie’s face was pale and tear-stained, 
but her head had regained its old defiant tilt, 
and she twitched her shoulder impatiently 
away from Rosemary’s hand. 

“Valerie — please! You’re in deep trouble. 
Isn’t there something I can do? Honestly, 
I’ll do anything to help.” 

“Thanks.” Valerie managed a contemptu¬ 
ous little laugh. “That’s very kind of you, 
but I wasn’t aware that I had asked for any 
help.” 

“I know. And maybe there isn’t anything 
I can do. But — oh, Valerie, it hurts me to 
see you cry like that!” Rosemary’s gentle 
voice quivered. “Don’t you want to tell me 
about it? Sometimes that helps, just to talk 
things over with some one — ” 

“And be sympathized with ? No, thank you. 
I hate sympathy. And I hate prying into my 
affairs, too.” 

Rosemary stiffened. She withdrew her 
hand, and spoke very distinctly. 

“Listen, Valerie. We’re not friends. 



18 


THE RANEES RUBY 

You’ve made it very clear that you’re too rich 
and important to bother with me. And that’s 
quite all right, because to be quite frank I don’t 
think much of you, either. The last thing I 
want to do is to pry into your affairs. I’m 
sorry I was here to-night, but since I was here, 
I offered to help you as I would any one who 
was in trouble. You don’t want my help, and 
that’s all there is to it. From now on, you’ll 
go your way and I’ll go mine, and the less we 
have to do with each other the better pleased 
I’ll be.” 

To her surprise, Valerie received her indig¬ 
nant little speech with a startled laugh. 

“My word, you are frank! Why do you 
bother with me then, if that’s the way you 
feel?” 

“I don’t bother with you, usually. But to¬ 
night — well, I told you. I’d try to help any 
one who was in trouble, whether I liked that 
person or not.” 

“You would? That’s funny.” Valerie 
peered curiously toward her in the dusk. 
“You’re a queer girl, Rosemary — not a bit 
like the other girls I’ve known. I’ve been to 
half a dozen boarding schools — I couldn’t 


VALERIE 19 

stand them, and never stayed long at any of 
them. But those girls were all just too sick- 
eningly sweet to me.” 

“I can’t imagine why,” Rosemary answered 
candidly. “You’re the last person I’d think 
of being sweet to.” 

Valerie laughed again, a little bitterly. 
“They had their reasons, my dear. Father 
has a yacht, and a suite at the Plaza, and an 
imported car. I go everywhere with him, and 
it would be just too lovely for some girl friend 
to be taken along for company. Oh, I could 
see through them, all right.” 

“I think that’s perfectly horrid. Of you, I 
mean — to suspect every one who tried to be 
friendly of wanting something! And I don’t 
believe they were like that; you just imagined 
it. Oh, there might have been one or two, but 
most girls aren’t — aren’t — ” 

“Mercenary? That’s the word, isn’t it? 
Well, that’s the way it looked to me. And I 
never stayed long enough at any school to have 
my opinion changed.” 

“Why didn’t you, Valerie? Didn’t you like 
school?” 

Valerie shrugged. “Too dull. Father was 


20 THE RANEES RUBY 

always going somewhere; he has business in¬ 
terests in all the Eastern cities, and he loved to 
take me with him. Then we go yachting a 
lot — up to Newfoundland and down to Ber¬ 
muda.” 

“How marvelous! This is the first time 
I’ve ever been out of Kansas. Your home is 
in New York, isn’t it, Valerie?” 

“As much as it is anywhere. We live at a 
hotel. I’ve never had what you’d call a home. 
Just a pair of tramps, Father says we are.” 

Rosemary could find no fitting answer to 
this, and after a moment’s pause Valerie went 
on, softly, dreamily, rather as though she were 
talking to herself. 

“We used to live away out West. My 
mother died there, in a little mining camp, 
when I was only three. Father hadn’t struck 
his big mine then, and we were desperately 
poor. My pretty little mother never had any¬ 
thing! So — well, Father has always felt that 
he must make up to me for what she missed. 
That’s why I’m what Miss Lucia probably 
calls overdressed for a young girl. Father 
loves to load me down with beautiful things 
— it’s all the happiness he has. It’s why he’s 


VALERIE 21 

kept me with him, in hotels, on trains; he can’t 
bear to have me out of sight for long. He has 
done everything in the world to make me 
happy, and now — now he’s ill, and I can’t be 
with him, and they don’t do anything over 
there at that old Sanitarium; they aren’t even 
trying to cure him! Oh, it makes me so furious 
— I can’t get them to do anything!” 

“But you’re wrong, Valerie, they are doing 
something,” Rosemary remonstrated. “They 
can’t work magic and make him well overnight; 
you mustn’t expect that. But your father is 
improving already. Timmy’s nurse told me 
only to-day that he’s sleeping ever so much 
better.” 

“Honestly, Rosemary?” Valerie clutched 
at her arm. “Did she really tell you that? 
Of course, the doctor and Father’s nurses talk 
encouragingly to me, but they’d do that any¬ 
way. They’d tell you the truth, though, 
wouldn’t they? Did she really say he was get¬ 
ting better?” 

“Really and truly. And — she said some¬ 
thing else that I think you ought to know.” 
Rosemary hesitated, then plunged ahead. 
“They say you’re rather a — well, a disturbing 




22 THE RANEES RUBY 

influence, Valerie. You fuss about your 
father so much, and scold and give orders — 
they really feel that he’d get well quicker if 
you didn’t spend so much time there.” 

Rosemary held her breath, waiting for the 
explosion that she felt was bound to occur. 
But instead Valerie only nodded dejectedly, 
her eyes downcast. 

“I know that. Dr. Bowman gave me a 
talking-to to-night. I thought I was help¬ 
ing, but it seems that I was only making him 
worse. I’ve promised to keep away except 
for a couple of hours in the afternoon. I guess 
I’m just no good to anybody.” 

The tears were near again, but she choked 
them back and sat with her hands clasped in 
her lap, gazing drearily into the shadows. 

Rosemary squirmed uneasily. The last few 
minutes had brought such a flood of enlighten¬ 
ment that it seemed to her a totally different 
girl sat beside her now; some one she had never 
seen before. Poor Valerie, with her suspicion, 
her don’t-care attitude masking a frightened 
loneliness! Motherless, dragged about from 
pillar to post by a doting father, constantly 
spoiled and loaded with luxuries — no wonder 


VALERIE 23 

she presented an unlovable personality to the 
world! 

Something caught at Rosemary’s throat as 
she thought of her riches which Valerie had 
never had. Her mother, Timmy, her home, 
her school friends — what would she be like if 
these had been denied her? She had criticized 
Valerie and disapproved of her, without even 
knowing — 

Impulsively she put out her hand again; 
found the other girl’s, and this time squeezed 
it warmly. 

“Valerie, I was a pig just now. I was — 
what’s that word of Timmy’s? A meany, 
that’s what I was. You know, when I said I 
didn’t like you, and that I didn’t want to have 
anything to do with you? Will you let me 
take it back? You’ve told me what you were 
crying about, though you didn’t mean to — ” 

“I’ve told you a lot of things I didn’t mean 
to,” Valerie interrupted, smiling faintly. “I 
can’t imagine why, either. I never confide in 
people. But you’re the queerest girl, Rose¬ 
mary — you aren’t a bit like any girl I’ve ever 
known.” 

“And I’m glad of that, after what you said 


24 THE RANEE S RUBY 

about those other girls! Valerie, listen. 
You’re worrying about your father; I’ve got 
the same worry about little Timmy. There’s 
a long wait ahead of us, and we’re here to¬ 
gether. Don’t you think it would be easier if 
we — well, just sort of propped each other 
up? I have my blue moments, too, I don’t 
mind telling you. And it does seem to me 
that it would help if I had another girl to talk 
to. Miss Lucia’s sympathetic, of course, but 
she’s an old lady, and she can’t realize how im¬ 
patient I get. So — ” 

“So let’s bury the hatchet? Rosemary, I’d 
love to. I’ve never had a girl friend before.” 

“Well, don’t get the notion that I’m fishing 
for an invitation to go yachting!” Rosemary 
exclaimed, so hastily that they both laughed. 
“I’m so sure I’d be seasick that I hate even to 
think about it! I don’t suppose we two will 
ever meet again after this summer’s over,” 
she went on more soberly. “But while we’re 
here, just for these few months, it seems to me 
we need each other.” 

“I’d never thought of anybody but Father 
needing me,” Valerie answered slowly. “But 
if you feel that way about it, I’m glad. Only, 


VALERIE 25 

I’m afraid I don’t know just how to begin.” 

“Oh, that’s easy! You can begin by climb¬ 
ing down off that mountain-top where you sit 
and look down upon the common herd below. 
As one of the common herd, I can assure you 
that your attitude has been extremely annoy¬ 
ing.” 

“Do I really do that? All right, catch me 
— here I come! Now that I think of it, it 
was always terribly chilly up there.” 



CHAPTER III 

THE LOCKED CHAMBER 

As Rosemary became more thoroughly rested, 
she abandoned late sleeping, and she and Val¬ 
erie spent long mornings together, reading 
and chatting. 

Miss Lucia, in her serene old wisdom, did 
not comment upon the sudden friendship which 
had grown up between these two girls, at first 
so antagonistic toward each other. From the 
beginning she had assumed that Rosemary 
and Valerie would find each other compan¬ 
ionable, and she was pleased but not surprised 
to find her belief justified. 

To the kindly looker-on, the two girls pre¬ 
sented an interesting contrast in both looks 
and disposition. Rosemary was fair-haired 
and gray-eyed, with a flashing friendly smile 
and an immense fund of common sense. She 
had a passion for “reasoning things out”, and 

26 


THE LOCKED CHAMBER 27 


seldom acted without thinking. She was by 
nature conscientious, patient, reliable, gentle 
— all those extremely dull-sounding virtues 
were hers, but as Valerie told her consolingly, 
they didn’t show enough to worry about. 
“And, anyway,” Valerie added, “you have a 
grand sense of humor, and that almost makes 
up for your perfections!” 

Valerie herself could lay claim to few per¬ 
fections. Her dark eyes were so big and so 
heavily lashed that they looked almost theat¬ 
rical in her thin, vivid face. Her hair was a 
dusky cloud of tight curls which could never 
be coaxed for long to lie in the smooth even 
waves she admired. She was childishly im¬ 
patient, and had never learned to endure dis¬ 
appointment or delay. She was given to act¬ 
ing on impulse, making decisions without much 
thought, and giving way to despair if the re¬ 
sults were not what she had hoped. 

Fortunately, however, Valerie’s faults, like 
Rosemary’s virtues, were not too glaringly 
conspicuous. They were surface faults, the 
product of her lonely girlhood, and not the 
deep-down traits which make up the real per¬ 
son. It was that real person which Rosemary 


28 THE RANEES RUBY 

was beginning to know now, and to find un¬ 
expectedly congenial. 

The two girls shared many tastes in com¬ 
mon, and enjoyed doing things together. One 
of the most interesting of their new pursuits 
was the exploration of the ancient house which 
was their present home. 

Hollingsworth Hall was a fascinating place. 
At various times rooms had been added to it, 
so that, though from the front it presented a 
unified appearance, the interior was delight¬ 
fully varied. Rooms on the same floor were 
built on different levels, with one step up or 
two steps down where they were least expected. 
There were long winding passages, too, and 
old cupboards and closets tucked away in odd 
corners. 

Miss Lucia, pleased at their interest in her 
old home, told them that the school dated back 
to 1866 , although the house itself was many 
years older. It had been the home of gener¬ 
ations of Hollingsworths. Miss Lucia’s great- 
aunt, impoverished by the Civil War, had 
turned it into a school for young ladies of 
quality. 

The building had been remodeled according 


THE LOCKED CHAMBER 29 

to old-fashioned ideas of spacious comfort. 
There were no dormitories, although some of 
the huge old chambers had been arranged to 
accommodate as many as four girls. There 
were double rooms and single ones, too, large 
and small. The entire east wing was “school”, 
with its ground floor occupied by one or two 
classrooms and the great dining hall which was 
also used in term-time as an assembly room 
for school exercises. The second floor in this 
wing was all classrooms, with bedrooms on the 
third floor. 

The west wing contained Miss Lucia’s liv¬ 
ing-quarters on the ground floor, with the 
breakfast room where meals were served for 
the summer household. The two floors above 
were given over to bedrooms. Valerie and 
Rosemary had two connecting rooms on the 
second floor of this wing. Kitchen and serv¬ 
ants’ quarters were in a one-story addition at 
the rear. 

Rosemary was deeply interested in old 
furniture, and the varied furnishings of the 
old school were a keen delight to her. Miss 
Lucia’s own suite of parlor, library, and bed¬ 
room was a treasure-house of priceless heir- 


30 THE RANEE S RUBY 

looms, but the students’ rooms yielded even 
more interesting finds. 

Valerie, at first inclined rather to sniff at 
Miss Lucia’s treasures as “out-of-date”, 
quickly came to share Rosemary’s enthusiasm 
as she understood it better. Rosemary 
brought home from the public library an arm¬ 
ful of books on antiques, and the girls spent 
hours trying to identify the period of some 
particular chair, and to guess its maker. 

Miss Lucia told them that when the school 
was opened, the first students were required 
to bring their own furniture, as well as the 
linen and silver, which was still a requirement. 
Many of those early students had left their 
furnishings as a legacy to the school, so that 
there was no uniformity among the different 
rooms, but a charming range of individual se¬ 
lections. Miss Lucia gave the girls smiling 
permission to explore as they wished. 

Gradually Rosemary and Valerie settled 
into a pleasant, placid routine. Every after¬ 
noon they walked together to the Sanitarium, 
where they separated, each to spend the per¬ 
mitted two hours with her own patient. Val¬ 
erie had surprised Dr. Bowman by the meek- 


THE LOCKED CHAMBER 31 

ness with which she had accepted his ruling 
that she must abide by the usual visiting hours. 
Rosemary’s cheery acceptance of hospital 
rules undoubtedly influenced her here, as also 
did the undeniable fact that her father was 
making definite improvement under the new 
system. 

Quite often, instead of returning at once to 
Hollingsworth Hall, the girls went for an 
afternoon hike through the neighboring hills. 
Cavern Springs was a charming little Southern 
town, set down among the Ozarks. Within 
easy walking distances were pine-grown slopes 
not too difficult to climb; rocky cliffs with 
sparkling springs welling out at their feet; a 
swift chattering little river overhung by wil¬ 
lows. 

The hills were sparsely inhabited by scat¬ 
tered mountaineer families, who seemed to 
suffer from a scarcity of everything except 
tow-headed children and hound dogs. The 
girls found them a friendly people, and often 
returned from their rambles with home-woven 
willow baskets filled with the delicious Ozark 
peaches which Arkansas keeps for herself and 
seldom sends to the city markets. 


32 THE RANEES RUBY 

It was a morning of beating summer rain. 
A perfect morning for “exploration” at home, 
the two girls decided; and immediately after 
breakfast they climbed the stairs and followed 
the dim winding passage that led to the school 
wing. Most of the bedrooms had been opened 
and thoroughly examined, but there were a 
few on the third floor which they had left till 
now. 

The third-floor corridors in this wing were 
wider than the ones below, but very dark, for 
they depended for their daylight upon the bed¬ 
rooms, which were all closed. The doors were 
farther apart here, for these rooms were un¬ 
usually large. These had once been the 
choicest chambers, Miss Lucia told them, but 
this floor was no longer in use. The school’s 
enrollment was not so large as it had once 
been, and the students, given a choice of rooms, 
preferred not to climb the extra flight of stairs. 

The first door they opened showed a high- 
ceiled square apartment, disappointingly fur¬ 
nished in the bird’s-eye maple of the late nine¬ 
ties. After a hasty glance around, Rosemary 
and Valerie passed on to the adjoining room. 


THE LOCKED CHAMBER 33 

This proved almost an exact duplicate of 
the first, and the third was very similar. 

“I think we’ve exhausted the really good 
ones,” Valerie remarked, when they found 
themselves in the corridor again. “These must 
be the rooms that Miss Lucia furnished her¬ 
self, when the school was at the height of its 
prosperity.” 

“It’s been going downhill of late, don’t you 
think? Miss Lucia told me that at one time 
they had over a hundred girls here, but last 
year there were only thirty. It seems a 
shame.” 

“Oh, well, what can you expect? Modern 
girls haven’t any use for the old-fashioned 
‘finishing school.’ A little music, a little 
water-color painting, a lot of ‘polish’ — that 
was a girl’s education when Miss Lucia was 
young, but it’s terribly out-of-date now. You 
wouldn’t like to go to that sort of school, would 
you?” 

“No, I suppose not,” Rosemary answered 
reluctantly, her mind flying to the modern high 
school which even her small town afforded. 
“I think it’s sort of sweet, though — I mean 


34 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

the — the — well, the ladyhood those schools 
turned out. Like Miss Lucia herself. Don’t 
you?” 

“Yes, it is sweet. I never imagined there 
were women like Miss Lucia, — in real life, I 
mean. She’s more like something out of an 
old-fashioned poem. It’s absolutely right for 
her, that ‘ladyness’, but for a modern girl, who 
has to live in a modern world — oh, I don’t 
know! Maybe it would be perfectly useless, 
and maybe — just a little bit of it — I don't 
know! Come along, Rosemary. Let’s pass 
up this whole corridor; those rooms are all 
alike. What’s around the corner?” 

Around the corner was an extremely short 
and narrow little passage, which in the dusk 
they had passed without a glance. There were 
no openings in its side walls, but it ended in 
a door. 

“Why, it’s locked!” Valerie exclaimed, her 
hand upon the knob. 

“It can’t be. None of the rooms is locked. 
It must have stuck.” 

“All right, you try, then.” 

The door steadfastly refused to yield to 
their efforts, and Rosemary was forced to con- 



“Rosemary, do you think she has a secret?” 















































































































































































































































































































































THE LOCKED CHAMBER 37 

elude that Valerie was right. It was certainly 
locked. 

“Oh, this is interesting!” Valerie exclaimed. 
“A Bluebeard chamber — who’d have thought 
it of Miss Lucia? Probably her seven hus¬ 
bands are hanging in there!” 

Rosemary giggled. “By their moustaches. 
I just know Miss Lucia’s Prince Charming 
would have long sweeping ones, don’t you? 
And — what did they call those funny look¬ 
ing whiskers? Sideburns? Mutton-chops? 
They’d have them, too.” 

“And flowered waistcoats, and bell-crowned 
hats — but I don’t believe she’d marry them 
and hang them up, on second thought. It 
doesn’t seem quite the ladylike thing to do, 
and I simply can’t conceive of Miss Lucia’s 
doing anything that isn’t ladylike.” 

“Well, let’s go ask her. No, I don’t mean 
about the husbands; I mean about the key. 
She told us we were perfectly free to explore 
wherever we wanted to, and if there is a key, 
she’s sure to have it.” 

Valerie assented, and the girls hurried out 
to the larger corridor leading to the staircase. 
Halfway down, however, Valerie hesitated. 


38 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

“Rosemary,” she said, without her usual as¬ 
surance, “Do you think we ought to ask Miss 
Lucia about that room? Maybe it’s something 
she’d rather we didn’t know about.” 

Rosemary, too, checked her headlong prog¬ 
ress downstairs. “Why, Valerie, what do you 
mean? She said we could go anywhere we 
wanted to.” 

“I know. But — she didn’t offer us a key. 
She must know that that room is locked, and 
if she meant us to go in there, she’d surely 
have given us the key.” 

“I hadn’t thought of that. Do you think 
she locked it on our account? She needn’t 
have done that. If she’d just told us to keep 
out of the room, she surely knew we would.” 

“Oh, I don’t think it’s locked for us. I 
mean for us especially. I think she doesn’t 
want any one to go in there.” 

“But why? She doesn’t use the room. She 
told me herself that she hadn’t climbed the 
stairs to this floor for years.” 

The girls had continued their journey down¬ 
stairs while they talked in low, earnest tones. 
As they reached the landing they could see 
through the open door leading into the parlor. 


THE LOCKED CHAMBER 39 

Miss Lucia sat at the frame on which she 
worked her exquisite petit-point embroidery. 
Midnight, her great black cat, purred con¬ 
tentedly at her feet. Her sweet face was bent 
over the work of her thin white hands, and her 
dress of pink sprigged dimity gave her the 
girlish grace of an old portrait. It was a 
charming, placid little picture, yet it held a 
note which startled the two girls. 

“Why, how sad she looks!” Rosemary 
whispered. “I never noticed that before, did 
you? She’s always smiling when she talks to 
us; of course, I never saw her when she thought 
she was alone. Do I just imagine it, Valerie?” 

“No. It’s the first thing that struck me. 
She does look sad. Not worried, or distressed, 
either — just resigned, and patient, and oh, so 
sorrowful! Rosemary, do you think she has 
a secret? We were joking about it, but — 
why, maybe it’s real!” 

At that moment Miss Lucia looked up and 
saw them. Instantly her face fell into the 
familiar smiling curves. “Oh, girls, come and 
see my moss-rose design. I want you to tell 
me if this silk is too pale.” 

As they hurried across the flowered carpet 


40 THE RANEES RUBY 

Valerie pinched Rosemary. “Not a word, 
now! I’ve a feeling that there isn’t any joke 
about that locked room. Later, we’ll try — 
oh, no, Miss Lucia, it isn’t pale! That’s just 
exactly the yellow-pink of your moss roses in 
the garden.” 



CHAPTER IV 
INSIDE 

For a few minutes the two girls hung over 
Miss Lucia’s work, discussing the delicate de¬ 
sign of old-fashioned flowers which she was 
working against a black background. Neither 
of them, however, was greatly skilled at act¬ 
ing. Their minds were full of the mysterious 
discovery of the locked room, and their excite¬ 
ment betrayed itself to Miss Lucia’s wise old 
eyes. 

They noticed that she gradually fell silent, 
her forehead creased with thought. They 
chattered on for a bit, conscious all the time 
that Miss Lucia was watching them thought¬ 
fully. When a pause came in the conversa¬ 
tion, it was their hostess who changed the sub¬ 
ject. 

“You were exploring the third floor of the 
schoolroom wing this morning, weren’t you, 

41 


42 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

girls ? Did you find anything very interesting 
up there?” 

Rosemary looked helplessly at Valerie, and 
for a moment neither spoke. Then Valerie 
managed to say carelessly, “No, I’m afraid 
we didn’t, Miss Lucia. The furniture was too 
modern for us.” 

“I suppose so,” Miss Lucia nodded absently. 
She hesitated for a second, her blue eyes study¬ 
ing each face in turn. Then she appeared to 
make up her mind. She spoke very quietly, 
but Rosemary observed that she dropped her 
needle and folded her hands in her lap to stop 
them from shaking. 

“Perhaps you didn’t notice it. One of the 
rooms on that floor is locked — the only locked 
room in the house.” 

“Why, yes, Miss Lucia, we did notice it,” 
Rosemary answered. “We were going to ask 
you about it, and then we decided it wasn’t 
any of our business,” she added frankly. 

Miss Lucia smiled faintly. “That was 
thoughtful of you, my dears. But there is no 
need for secrecy. I think I should like you 
both to see that room, if you care about it.” 


INSIDE 43 

Reading assent in their eager faces, she turned 
to Valerie. 

“There is a little brass box on the what-not 
in the corner behind you, dear. Will you 
bring it to me?” 

Valerie hurried to put the box in her lap. 
Miss Lucia opened it and took out an ordinary 
door key. With a little sigh she handed it to 
the girl. 

“Run up and have a look round now, if you 
wish. Then — come back to me here, and 
I’ll tell you the story of the locked room.” 

Valerie took the key, but she did not move. 
“Miss Lucia,” she said awkwardly, “we don’t 
want to pry. If — if this is something you’d 
rather not tell us — if you don’t want us to see 
the room — ” 

Miss Lucia gave her a gentle push. “I do 
want you to see it, Valerie. The story — well, 
it’s far from being a secret. If you girls re¬ 
main in Cavern Springs all summer you’re 
bound to hear it, in one form or another. I 
think — yes, I’m sure that it’s best for you to 
hear it from me, now. So run along. I’ll be 
waiting here when you come back.” 





44 THE RANEES RUBY 

Half fearfully Valerie turned the key in the 
lock and pulled the door outward. Darkness 
confronted her. She stepped forward, and as 
hastily stepped back. 

“Good heavens, Rosemary! Something 
touched my face — something soft, and creepy 
— oh, I don’t know whether we ought to go in 
there or not!” 

“Don’t be silly!” Rosemary was close be¬ 
hind her. Now, instead of advancing, she put 
out an exploring hand. Then she laughed. 
“It’s a curtain, ’fraidy-cat! See, a velvet cur¬ 
tain drawn right across the door. At least, it 
feels like velvet — I can’t see a thing. Come 
on.” 

She held the drapery back and the two girls 
stepped into the room, on carpet so thick and 
soft that their feet sank into it without a sound. 
All was intense darkness — not the shuttered 
dusk of the other rooms they had explored, but 
the black of deepest night. 

Fumbling, and keeping very close together, 
they made their way toward the wall where 
windows should be. The room was wide, and 
the journey seemed endless. The curtain had 
fallen back into place over the opened door. 




INSIDE 


45 


so that no ray of light penetrated. No furni¬ 
ture impeded their progress, although occasion¬ 
ally they stumbled over something soft which 
by the feel of it seemed to be a cushion. 

At last their outstretched hands touched 
solid walls; or rather, silky softness with a feel 
of solidness behind. They groped about for a 
minute, and then Valerie exclaimed trium¬ 
phantly, “There’s glass here, I’m sure of it! 
But the whole wall must be hung with some 
sort of drapery. Wait, I think I’ve got hold 
of an edge.” 

She gave a sidewise tug, and the heavy fabric 
in her hand slipped back, exposing a window. 
By the dim light thus admitted the girls suc¬ 
ceeded in unveiling the other two windows, 
and throwing them open they unlatched the 
heavy shutters outside. 

The rain of the morning had ceased, and 
bright summer sunlight came flooding in, daz¬ 
zling their eyes after the gloom. They turned 
their faces eagerly toward the room, but for 
a moment they could see nothing. Then Val¬ 
erie gave a little awed exclamation. 

“Rosemary! Is it real? Or is it — some¬ 
thing out of the Arabian Nights?” 


46 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

“Don’t ask me!” Rosemary gasped. “I’ve 
never seen anything like it, never! But — 
isn’t it beautifulV 3 

The draperies at door and windows, plain 
black velvet on the outside to exclude the light, 
turned to the room itself a surface of intricate 
embroidery on white satin. Gold threads and 
silver intertwined in strange blossoms, picked 
out with vivid green and rose. There were 
clusters of purple grapes and huge golden bas¬ 
kets heaped high with rosy pomegranates. 

The walls were hung with soft white silk, 
gathered in close folds, and crisscrossed by a 
lattice pattern of wide bands of embroidery. 
These bands, gold-edged, were worked in a de¬ 
sign of lotus blossoms, with pale green leaves 
and rose-and-ivory petals. 

Underfoot was a wonderful old Oriental 
carpet in faded pale colors. Over their heads 
arched a canopy supported in the four corners 
of the room by slender gold spears; a canopy 
of heaven-blue set with silver stars. 

The room held only one large piece of furni¬ 
ture— a deep low divan set against the wall 
near the door. Over it hung a huge tapestry 
depicting an Eastern hunting scene, with ele- 


INSIDE 


47 


phants, horses, and hunters delightfully shown 
against a tropical landscape. The divan itself 
was of pale rose satin, tufted and padded to 
luxurious softness, and piled high with cushions 
of every possible color and shape. 

“Well — let’s sit down and look this over!” 
exclaimed Rosemary. 

Hand in hand they stumbled to the divan, 
and sank breathless into its soft depths. Then 
wonderingly they continued to look about 
them. 

Scattered through the room were half a 
dozen low round padded stools, of the kind the 
French call pouffes. These were of rich bro¬ 
cades and satins, all in pastel colors. There 
were also three or four small tables, about the 
height of our modern coffee tables; these were 
gilded, their tops inlaid with mother-of-pearl. 
On the largest one stood a graceful tea set of 
exquisitely frail gold china. Another held a 
lamp of gleaming alabaster; on the third, a 
squat black elephant supported a large rock- 
crystal ball. 

Rosemary clutched Valerie’s arm. “Those 
marble things in each corner — are they lamps ? 
Did you ever see such wonderful carving?” 



48 


THE RANEE’S RUBY 

In each corner of the room, beside the golden 
spears, stood a slender pedestal of white mar¬ 
ble, delicately carved in a leafy tracery of vines. 
The tops, shoulder-high, were urn shaped, 
pierced through in a pattern of flowers. 

“Let’s see.” Valerie sprang up. “Oh, 
look, Rosemary — come here; this top lifts off. 
Um, does it smell good! Why, it’s dried rose 
petals.” 

“Oh, yes, a potpourri jar. I’ve seen them. 
This one is different, though; it has ashes in it. 
I know — an incense burner! Two of each, 
aren’t they? And, oh, darling, will you look 
at that marble screen!” 

It stood across the right-hand wall of the 
room; a screen as high as Rosemary’s head; a 
bit of lacework in stone. 

“Lovely,” Valerie agreed, leaving the pot¬ 
pourri jar to examine it. “What’s behind it? 
Oh, a long mirror — and a stool in front of it. 
And this little golden cabinet that could have 
held toilet things. I should imagine this was 
a sort of dressing-room, shouldn’t you?” 

“Don’t ask me! I’m getting more mystified 
all the time. Who planned a room like this, 



INSIDE 


49 


and why? We’re not in a sultan’s palace, re¬ 
member; we’re in a girls’ school in a little 
American town. Who’d want a room like this 
here? What’s it all about, anyway?” 

Valerie shook her head. “It’s completely 
beyond me. But Miss Lucia told us to come 
back to her, and she’d tell us the story. Have 
you forgotten?” 

Rosemary laughed. “I think I had forgot¬ 
ten that, and everything else. This place has 
simply taken my breath away. Well, come 
on, let’s go — though I hate to go back to the 
everyday world again, after stepping into a 
fairy tale picture.” 

Carefully they closed the shutters and drew 
the curtains. Rosemary turned the key in the 
lock, and they hurried downstairs. 

They found Miss Lucia sitting just as they 
had left her. She smiled as she saw them 
coming, and Rosemary told herself that she 
only imagined that the blue eyes were faintly 
pink-rimmed, as though the little lady had 
been weeping. 

“Oh, Miss Lucia, it’s beautiful!” Valerie 
exclaimed impetuously. “But please, we’re 


50 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

dying to know all about it! Why is that lovely 
room kept locked and darkened, and whose 
room is it, anyway?” 

“Sit down, dears; it’s a long story,” Miss 
Lucia answered in her gentle voice. “The 
room — yes, it is lovely, isn’t it? That room, 
dear girls, belonged — oh, a long time ago! — 
to Roshanara, Princess Royal of Patipur.” 



CHAPTER V 

THE PRINCESS ROSHANARA 

The two girls threw themselves on the floor at 
Miss Lucia’s feet, their faces eagerly upturned. 
Some common instinct held them silent, and 
the spacious old parlor was strangely still un¬ 
til the soft voice of the old lady began the 
promised tale. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to you, my 
dears, of my younger brother, Marcus ? I was 
the eldest of a large family, and Marcus was 
the baby. Only the two of us survive now.” 

She paused, a far-away look dimming her 
blue eyes. Then, with an apologetic smile, she 
went on: 

“Marcus was a darling little boy; so good, 
so earnest. It was no surprise to us when he 
decided in early boyhood that he would be a 
missionary when he grew up. He never wa¬ 
vered in his resolution. Immediately after 

51 


52 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

his ordination as a minister he sailed for India, 
to work among the unhappy poor there. He’s 
stationed now at a place called Gingi, in the 
Madras Presidency. He’s doing a great 
work, and I’m very proud of him.” 

Again she paused, and Valerie fidgeted im¬ 
patiently. A very dry beginning, she thought, 
to what must be an exciting and romantic 
story, if it were to account for that fascinating 
secret room. Miss Lucia met her eyes with 
an understanding smile. 

“We old people are apt to be a little slow in 
our story-telling, I’m afraid. But the story 
really begins with Marcus. And it goes back 
now, twenty-five years. To my brother’s first 
assignment in the missionary field, the Native 
State of Patipur. At that time there was no 
railroad in the whole State, no newspapers, 
absolutely no modern life as we know it. The 
people cultivated their land in the most prim¬ 
itive way, lived in the leaf-thatched huts that 
their fathers had known, worshipped the 
heathen goddess Parvati, and knew nothing 
but poverty and ignorance. They were ruled 
by a Rajah who had absolute powers of life 
and death. He, of course, paid homage to 


THE PRINCESS ROSHANARA 53 

the British crown, but few English people 
ever found their way to his out-of-the-way 
kingdom.” 

“Gracious, what a place!” Rosemary in¬ 
terjected. “Didn’t your brother nearly die of 
homesickness?” 

“No, indeed; Marcus was very happy in 
Patipur. He began his work under the most 
fortunate circumstances. A year or so be¬ 
fore, a new Rajah had come to the throne. 
His Highness, the Rajah Rai Singh, had been 
educated at the English College for Indian 
Princes, and was a young man of modern 
ideas, very different from the old uncle who 
had preceded him. He had great dreams of 
bringing civilization to his people, and he wel¬ 
comed my brother cordially. The little mis¬ 
sion church flourished from the start, and my 
brother founded a school at the Rajah’s re¬ 
quest.” 

“How interesting!” Valerie said politely, 
as Miss Lucia paused again. Privately she 
considered that the story was getting just a 
little duller every minute. Would Miss Lucia 
ever get to the point? 

“The Rajah’s wife, the Ranee, died during 


54 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

my brother’s first year in Patipur,” Miss Lucia 
resumed. “Marcus never saw her, of course, 
as she was strictly purdah, but she was said to 
be one of the most beautiful women in India.” 

“I’m afraid I didn’t quite understand that 
word, Miss Lucia,” Rosemary interrupted. 

" Purdah, my dear — an Indian word for 
secluded. The Ranee lived in her own palace, 
and was never seen by the outside world.” 

“Oh, my gracious, a haremV* Valerie 
asked, suddenly interested. “I’ve heard of 
that, but I thought it was only the Turks who 
had them.” 

“It’s a Muslim custom, of course,” Miss 
Lucia agreed. “You know India was con¬ 
quered by the Mohammedans back in the Mid¬ 
dle Ages, and they adopted some of the ways 
of their conquerors. Well, to get on with my 
story. The Ranee left one child, a lovely little 
daughter named Roshanara. Usually the 
Rajputs attach little importance to daughters, 
but Rai Singh was an exception. He had 
been devoted to his young wife, and in the lit¬ 
tle daughter who was named for her he found 
his only consolation. He had the finest of 
native tutors for her, and he gave to her edu- 


THE PRINCESS ROSHANARA 55 

cation and general bringing-up far more per¬ 
sonal attention than most oriental fathers 
spend upon a mere girl. The child had a 
splendid mind; of all my pupils, I think she 
was the quickest to learn that I have ever 
known.” 

“You knew her, then?” Valerie exclaimed. 
“But of course — you told us the locked room 
belonged to her. Oh, do go on, Miss Lucia. 
Did she actually come here?” 

“Yes, my dear. Marcus told her father that 
his sister kept a school for girls, and the Rajah 
thought it would be a splendid idea for her to 
spend a year under my care, learning the 
American ways which he so much admired. 
The Rajah himself paid my brother’s expenses 
so that he might escort the child and her nurse 
to America. That was Marcus’s last visit 
home, twenty years ago. I have never seen 
him since.” 

“How old was the Princess then?” Rose¬ 
mary asked. 

“Roshanara was — let me see, she must have 
been ten. Yes, because she had her eleventh 
birthday the week before she — she — ” to the 
girls’ surprise, Miss Lucia faltered here, and 



56 THE RANEES RUBY 

it was with an obvious effort that she con¬ 
cluded, “she was taken home.” 

“It must have been a strange experience for 
her,” Valerie observed. “Did she enjoy the 
life here?” 

“I’m afraid she didn’t.” Miss Lucia sighed. 
“It was an odd thing; I’ve never been able to 
understand it. In class Roshanara was a very 
satisfactory pupil; shy, and hampered by her 
imperfect knowledge of English, but appar¬ 
ently interested in her work and grasping new 
facts with lightning quickness. Our discipline 
is strict, and there is no opportunity for social 
contacts in the classrooms, but my teachers and 
the other girls thought her attitude was 
friendly there. That’s why it seemed so 
strange that she should act as she did when 
classes were over.” 

“What did she do?” Rosemary asked. 
“Give herself royal airs?” 

“That is not a very elegant way of putting 
it, my dear,” Miss Lucia said gently. “But 
it is true that the Princess showed a conscious¬ 
ness of her station by repelling all efforts to 
draw her into our community life. Family 
pride is a quality which we do not discourage 


THE PRINCESS ROSHANARA 57 

here, but in Roshanara it was exaggerated 
beyond all reason.” 

“Are you sure it was all pride, Miss Lucia?” 
Valerie asked quickly. “You see, I’ve been 
in strange schools myself. If the Princess 
was shy — you said she was, didn’t you? 
well, a girl who doesn’t feel at home some¬ 
times tries to cover it up by — oh, by pretend¬ 
ing to be very proud and haughty, as if she 
didn’t care whether she made friends or not.” 

“That is very true, Valerie, I have seen it 
many times. But in my experience, if such 
a girl is treated with tact and kindliness, she 
abandons her foolish attitude gladly after the 
first week or so. No* the Princess’s case was 
not the simple problem which so many of my 
homesick girls have presented. It was some¬ 
thing deeper, far more difficult to reach. I 
do not often feel that I have failed to under¬ 
stand my girls,” Miss Lucia finished wistfully, 
“but I must confess that Roshanara remained 
a riddle to me.” 

“But what did she do?” Rosemary persisted. 

“Everything.” Miss Lucia spread her 
hands in a helpless little gesture. “We some¬ 
times felt, all of us, as though there were two 



58 THE RANEES RUBY 

Roshanaras. The Roshanara of the class¬ 
room, and the Princess Royal of after-hours. 
Her room was arranged before her arrival 
by Mr. Bhagwan Das, the Rajah’s American 
business representative, who sent a corps of 
workmen to reproduce exactly the Princess’s 
room in the palace at home. It was almost 
impossible to get her out of that room, except 
for classes. Kumari, the maid she brought 
with her, was in constant attendance, and she 
seemed to shrink from any other companion¬ 
ship. I had to insist that she come to the 
dining-hall for meals, but even there she de¬ 
manded a separate table, with Kumari to 
serve her specially prepared food. She re¬ 
fused to join in games, or to mingle with the 
other girls at recreation time. She took no 
interest at all in our out-door sports, but 
preferred to shut herself into her room, playing 
some endless sort of Indian dominoes with 
Kumari.” 

“I thought she was supposed to be learn¬ 
ing American ways,” Rosemary observed. 
“That doesn’t seem to be a very good way to 
go about it.” 

“Naturally it wasn’t. I tried to tell her 


THE PRINCESS ROSHANARA 59 

that, but all my efforts to gain her confidence 
and reason with her were of no avail. I made 
every allowance for homesickness, and the 
difficulty of adjusting to new conditions, and 
I did not think it wise to try to force her to 
drop all her accustomed habits at once. But 
I did talk to her, or tried to, for I found her 
singularly unresponsive. The language was 
a difficulty. She knew no English when she 
came here, and though she was learning 
rapidly, it was hard to know whether I was 
making myself understood. She would an¬ 
swer me in monosyllables, glancing at Kumari, 
who was always present, as though for guid¬ 
ance. Kumari, who had been in service to a 
British family, spoke far better English than 
the Princess, and frequently interpreted for 
us. Our interviews always ended the same 
way. I would urge Roshanara to mingle 
with the other girls, to make friends and share 
in our school life. Kumari would translate 
my words into a flood of rapid Hindostanee. 
Then — then Roshanara would draw herself 
up in true royal fashion. T am your pupil’, 
she would say; always the same words, as if 
she’d learned them by heart. Tn the school- 


60 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

room I submit myself to you. But here I am 
the Princess Royal of Patipur, and no woman 
may command me. Go!’ ” 

“My word!” There was a very faint trace 
of admiration in Valerie’s voice. “I may have 
given myself airs, and been as disagreeable as 
I dared, but I certainly never went that far! 
Did she keep it up all the time, Miss Lucia?” 

“All the time, for the three months that 
she was here. Then —” 

“Three months? I thought she was to stay 
a year.” 

Miss Lucia’s voice sounded suddenly 
strained. “Roshanara was removed from my 
care at the end of three months. By Mr. 
Bhagwan Das, acting on her father’s orders. 
I’ve told you that the whole town knows this 
story, my dear girls. Even the city news¬ 
papers carried sensational accounts of it 
twenty years ago. It’s old and forgotten 
now, but I — I shall never forget. The dis¬ 
grace, the shame—” 

The little lady was so painfully excited now 
that it was difficult to follow her. Rosemary 
laid a soothing hand on her arm. 

“Don’t tell us unless you like, Miss Lucia. 



THE PRINCESS ROSHANARA 61 

We don’t want to hear it if it distresses you 
to talk about it.” 

Miss Lucia smiled dimly and patted the 
comforting hand. “I’ll be less distressed when 
you know, girls. Roshanara was taken away 
from my school because — because a very valu¬ 
able jewel which she always wore disappeared 
under suspicious circumstances. Mr. Bhag- 
wan Das believed, and reported to the Rajah, 
that it had been stolen.” 

Valerie stared. “Well, that’s too bad, of 
course, but why did she have to be taken home? 
You couldn’t be responsible if a burglar broke 
into your house.” 

“The house was not broken into, dear. On 
the morning the loss was discovered, our local 
chief of police examined the premises. The 
downstairs doors and windows were locked, 
and Roshanara’s own shutters were tightly 
barred. We had never been able to persuade 
her to sleep with open windows, as we do. The 
detectives whom Mr. Bhagwan Das sent from 
St. Louis arrived the next morning, and they, 
too, were convinced that no outsider had en¬ 
tered the house.” 

“Well, but — oh, I see, they thought it must 



62 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

have been done by some one in the house? 
The servants, or the other students? How 
dreadful!” 

“It was a dreadful time, Valerie! Every 
minute of those two fearful days is imprinted 
on my memory. Kumari came to me at break¬ 
fast, almost out of her head with worry. She 
had discovered the loss when she was brush¬ 
ing the Princess’s hair. She was insistent that 
the police must be called in at once, and to 
quiet her I did so. She also sent off a tele¬ 
gram to Mr. Bhagwan Das in New York. I 
did not take it very seriously at first, thinking 
that the Ruby must have slipped off its chain 
and fallen somewhere about her room. But 
after a thorough search failed to reveal it I, 
too, became worried. Chief Edwards was 
very considerate, but he was helpless. Then, 
early next morning, two strange detectives 
arrived. It seems that Mr. Bhagwan Das 
had wired to St. Louis, the nearest big city, to 
have them come at once. They were — oh, 
most ungentlemanly.” 

Miss Lucia shuddered at the memory. 
“Every one was questioned, and all belong¬ 
ings searched. My girls, the daughters of 


THE PRINCESS ROSHANARA 63 

fine old Southern families, were put through 
the most humiliating cross-examination, their 
rooms turned out, their most intimate posses¬ 
sions scrutinized. The parents were very in¬ 
dignant, and I couldn’t blame them. My 
school lost many pupils that year; names that 
have been on the rolls of Hollingsworth Hall 
for generations. Oh, it was a trying time, my 
dears, a terrible time!” 

“It must have been!” Valerie sympathized. 
“But I still don’t see why they should blame 
you 

“It happened in my house, darling. Mr. 
Bhagwan Das told me quite plainly that the 
responsibility was mine; that I had exposed 
the Princess to association with thieves. He 
did not add if I were not myself the thief, but 
I daresay that was in his mind. The Rajah, 
with whom he was in communication by cable, 
took the same position. The end of it all was 
that Roshanara was hastily removed, the repu¬ 
tation of my school suffered a blow from which 
it has never recovered, and my brother was 
ordered to close his mission and leave Patipur, 
never to return.” 

“Well, that was unfair!” Valerie cried. 


64 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

“What in the world could he have to do with 
it?” 

“He suggested sending the Princess here — 
that was enough,” Miss Lucia answered sadly. 
“The Rajah’s faith in Americans was quite 
destroyed, I’m afraid. My brother’s Mission 
Board inquired into the whole matter, and 
voted him guiltless, but they could not move 
the Rajah. Marcus was transferred to a dis¬ 
tant station in Southern India, and no mis¬ 
sionary of his faith has ever been admitted to 
Patipur since. It was a tragic business, my 
dears.” 

“But it all seems so silly!” Valerie burst 
out. “Even if some servant or some wretched 
kid did take the jewel, why make such a fuss 
about it? Surely the Princess had plenty 
more?” 

“Oh, yes, but I’m afraid I haven’t made 
quite clear what the stolen jewel was. It was 
known simply as ‘The Ranee’s Ruby’, and 
had belonged to Roshanara’s mother. But it 
had a historic significance which made it more 
precious than all the jewels in the Rajah’s 
crown. It had been worn by that noble queen 
of Chitor who, when the Muslim Ala-ud-din 


THE PRINCESS ROSHANARA 65 

defeated her husband in battle and advanced 
to sack her city, herself fired her palace and 
perished in its flames. The jewel itself she 
placed about the neck of her baby daughter, 
given into the charge of a faithful slave who 
fled with the child to her father’s distant king¬ 
dom. Years later, when Ala-ud-din’s empire 
had crumbled and a Rajput again sat upon 
the throne of Chitor, he took for his bride the 
daughter of the brave queen, who brought her 
mother’s jewel back to the palace. All this 
happened centuries ago, of course — it was in 
1303 a.d. that Ala-ud-din made his raid upon 
Chitor. But the present royal house of Pati- 
pur traces its descent from the Chitor rulers, 
and the Ranee’s Ruby has been the most pre¬ 
cious possession of their queens ever since.” 

“Oh, I see,” Rosemary said thoughtfully. 
“Well, of course, that would make a differ¬ 
ence. It seems to me, though, that wearing 
a jewel like that was quite a responsibility 
for a ten-year-old girl at school. I suppose 
it was worth a lot of money?” 

“It must have been, although I was never 
told its value. It was an immense thing, of 
deep red color, full of fire and life. I did 


66 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

not consider it a suitable ornament for a 
schoolgirl, but Kumari told me that it had 
never been removed from the child’s neck, 
and must never be while she lived. They re¬ 
garded it as a sacred relic, you see. As a mat¬ 
ter of fact, the chain on which it hung had no 
clasp, but had been soldered about her neck so 
that it could only be taken off by cutting the 
chain. We found the broken chain in the 
Princess’s bed.” 

“Whom do you think took it, Miss Lucia?” 
Rosemary asked. “I know you can’t prove 
anything, but you must have some idea in your 
own mind.” 

“That’s just it, dear child; I haven’t. I 
never have had. Nowadays I try to thrust 
it out of my mind, but at first I used to lie 
awake night after night, trying to solve the 
mystery. Dorcas and Jefferson were with me 
then, and old Aunt Fanny, who had been my 
nurse. I should as soon suspect myself as 
those faithful darkies.” 

“The teachers?” Valerie ventured. “Or one 
of the girls?” 

Miss Lucia sighed. “I’ve told myself that 
it must have been one of them. But — I knew 


THE PRINCESS ROSHANARA 67 

and loved them all, and I simply can’t think 
it.” 

There was a little pause, and then, with 
determined calm, Miss Lucia picked up her 
needle again. 

“Well, there’s the story, my dears. It’s a 
relief to have told it. And Valerie, I think 
your father ought to be told. He may feel 
— after all, valuable jewelry has disappeared 
from this house, and never been recovered. 
Those rings and bracelets of yours worry me, 
dear. If Mr. Porter thinks it better, Dr. 
Bowman can find some other place for you 
to stay — ” 

“Miss Lucia!” Valerie’s fine eyes blazed. 
“I won’t let you say things like that! It’s 
an insult to Father and me, too, to imagine 
that we’d think — that we’d think — ” 

“Valerie, will you keep still?” Rosemary 
laid a forceful hand on her arm. “She doesn’t 
mean to be rude, Miss Lucia. She’s just in¬ 
dignant that you’d think that she'd think her 
jewelry mightn’t be safe in your house. 
Please don’t say anything like that again, Miss 
Lucia — it hurts us both. Promise?” 


The little lady smiled mistily. “I promise, 




68 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

then. It’s dear of you both — the confidence 
— it means so much — ” With an effort she 
mustered her old calm manner. “Don’t let 
my story distress you, girls. It’s all over 
and done with these twenty years. I was re¬ 
bellious at first. It seemed to me that I 
couldn’t go on into the years, not knowing — 
but one learns patience at last. I have schooled 
myself never to think of it now. Or almost 
never.” 

“That’s right, Miss Lucia.” Valerie scram¬ 
bled to her feet. “Just thinking about mys¬ 
teries doesn’t solve them, so what’s the use? 
Maybe it’ll all be cleared up some day, and 
then you’ll know” 

“I’m afraid not.” Miss Lucia shook her 
head. “But I’ll try not to burden you girls 
again with my ancient troubles. And thank 
you both for listening, and caring, and being 
so sweet about it all.” 


CHAPTER VI 

THE QUEST BEGINS 

That afternoon Rosemary, having said 
good-by to her little brother, found Valerie 
waiting for her as usual at the Sanitarium 
gates. 

“It’s early; let’s sit in Spring Park a while,” 
Valerie suggested. “I can’t face that long 
walk home till it gets a little cooler.” 

Rosemary agreed, and Valerie led the way 
to the shady little park across the street from 
the Sanitarium. 

Spring Park was thickly planted with huge 
old trees, and dotted with comfortable rustic 
benches. Every Saturday night the town band 
gave a concert in the little band-stand, and all 
the citizens turned out to listen to the music 
and “drink the waters.” 

Cavern Springs people had a loyal faith in 
the medicinal properties of the many springs 


69 


70 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

scattered through the town, and the Big 
Spring under its gingerbread pavilion in the 
park, was the most popular of all. Unlike 
the steaming hot springs about which the San¬ 
itarium centered, Big Spring waters gushed 
icy cold. The taste, a blending of iron, sul¬ 
phur, and other less recognizable minerals, was 
peculiar, and caused newcomers to make many 
a wry face. Miss Lucia had insisted, however, 
that the two girls needed the tonic properties 
of Big Spring water, and they dutifully drank 
a cupful every time they passed that way. 

To-day, having visited the spring, they 
strolled over to their favorite seat, a latticed 
bower overgrown by a flowering Madeira vine. 
The rustic bench was open to the east, but 
back and sides were walls of glossy green and 
heavily scented white blossoms. 

The little park was almost deserted at this 
hour. On a bench near the spring, a young 
mother read a magazine, one hand mechanic¬ 
ally jiggling the baby carriage at her side. In 
the bandstand, two aged Confederate vet¬ 
erans bent over a checkerboard on a soap box 
between them. A fuzzy mongrel dog dozed 
at their feet. 


THE QUEST BEGINS 71 

Valerie settled herself comfortably and 
smiled at Rosemary. “Well?” 

“Well what?” 

“You’re looking worried, my dear. And 
as you’ve just told me that Timmy is heaps 
better, it can’t be that. Want me to tell you 
what you’re worrying about?” 

“Go ahead, mind reader. You can’t pos¬ 
sibly know!” 

“Oh, yes, I can. And it doesn’t take any 
mind reading, either. I know what’s in your 
thoughts because the same thing is in mine. 
The only difference is that I’m not worrying. 
You read me a lecture on the foolishness of 
worry — remember? So, just to show you 
that I can practice what you preach, even if 
you can’t, here’s what I’ve decided. I’m not 
going to spend my time worrying. I’m go¬ 
ing to gather my wits together and do some¬ 
thing about it!” 

Rosemary looked bewildered. “I guess 
you’re not such a mind reader after all, Val¬ 
erie. This thing I’m thinking of — there’s 
nothing that can be done about it. That’s 
why I’m worrying.” 

“I don’t agree with you. I think some- 


72 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

thing can be done. And I think it’s up to 
us to do it.” 

“But we can’t, Valerie! The Ruby is gone, 
the Princess is back in India — there’s no pos¬ 
sible way we can solve the mystery, after all 
these years.” 

“I was right, then!” Valerie exclaimed tri¬ 
umphantly. “We were thinking about the 
same thing. Listen here, Rosemary. Miss 
Lucia’s been mighty sweet to us. If we could 
do something for her, something that would 
lift this cloud of sadness that’s hung over her 
so long — well, I don’t know how you feel, 
but it seems to me it would be a perfectly 
grand thing to do!” 

“I don’t see why you say you don’t know 
how I feel!” Rosemary answered indignantly. 
“I’m just as fond of Miss Lucia as you are, 
and I’d do anything to help her! But solv¬ 
ing the mystery is the only thing that would 
help her, and that’s impossible, Valerie.” 

“Why is it? Who says so?” 

“But Valerie, honey, you know it is. You 
heard what she said. They had private de¬ 
tectives from St. Louis on the case, as well 
as the Cavern Springs police. Everybody 


THE QUEST BEGINS 73 

was questioned, and the place was searched 
from top to bottom. What could we do, 
twenty years later, that they didn’t do? And 
they never found out anything.” 

“I don’t care,” Valerie answered obstinately. 
“They were looking for a thief. What if 
there wasn’t any thief? What if the ruby 
was lost accidentally, and never stolen at all? 
What if — listen, Bosemary. The Princess 
was just a little kid, and a rather peculiar one 
at that, from what Miss Lucia told us. How 
do we know that she didn’t lose it herself, and 
pretend not to know anything about it? Chil¬ 
dren have done such things, you know.” 

“Why, Valerie — that’s an idea, anyhow. 
She knew how important and valuable it was, 
and she’d be frightened to death if she lost 
it. Of course, it wasn’t an honorable thing 
to do, to let the school be blamed, but — ” 

“But she didn’t care anything about the 
school, remember. She was the Princess 
Royal, too good to associate with any one 
here. Why should she mind making trouble 
for them?” 

“I don’t know, Valerie.” Rosemary 
frowned. “It doesn’t seem exactly what you’d 



74 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

expect from a Princess. I’d call it a pretty 
shabby trick, myself. But — I’m afraid it 
does sound possible.” 

“It’s the only probable theory,” Valerie an¬ 
swered eagerly. “I’ve been going over the 
whole thing in my mind. If the Ruby was 
stolen, what became of it? No one could 
wear it; it would be sure to be recognized, 
after all the fuss that was made. They 
couldn’t sell it, either, for the same reason. 
Even supposing the thief wasn’t some one in 
the school, but a professional from outside, it 
couldn’t be sold anywhere. Maybe you don’t 
know it, but when a really valuable jewel dis¬ 
appears, the police all over the world are 
notified. They watch the pawnshops and gem 
dealers, and if the Ranee’s Ruby had been 
offered for sale they’d certainly have known 
about it.” 

“You know a lot, don’t you?” Rosemary 
said admiringly. “Much more than I do 
about these things. I suppose that’s because 
you have real jewelry of your own.” 

“Maybe,” Valerie agreed. “There were 
only two things a thief could do with the Ruby. 
One was to offer to sell it back to the Rajah. 


THE QUEST BEGINS 75 

That hasn’t been done, or Miss Lucia’s 
brother would surely have heard about it. I 
can’t believe the Rajah would go on blaming 
the brother after he’d come into touch with 
the real thief. That would be too unfair!” 

“I think so, too. What’s the other thing?” 

“They might have cut the Ruby up into 
smaller gems, and sold them one by one. It 
would mean a big loss in money; they couldn’t 
get anything like as much as the Rajah would 
have been willing to pay. Still, it could have 
been done.” 

“If that’s what happened, it would have had 
to be professional thieves, wouldn’t it? No 
one at the school would know how to go about 
a job like that. And the detectives, who 
ought to know, seemed perfectly convinced that 
it wasn't a professional crime.” 

“That’s just it,” Valerie responded quickly. 
“That’s why I say my theory is the only prob¬ 
able one. It’s so easy to imagine that the ring, 
or whatever held the Ruby to the chain, wore 
through. It fell off somewhere in the house 
or the grounds, and Roshanara didn’t discover 
it till she found the broken chain when she 
went to bed. She just quietly said nothing, 


76 THE RANEES RUBY 

let Kumari discover the loss, and let the school 
take the blame.” 

“I hate to believe it,” Rosemary said. “It 
seems such a wicked, cowardly thing to do. 
But — why, if it’s true, then where is the 
Ruby, Valerie? It can’t be here. The place 
was thoroughly searched — twice, remem¬ 
ber?” 

“It has to be here, if the theory is true. 
Roshanara didn’t know where she lost it; if 
she had known, none of this would have hap¬ 
pened. The detectives were looking for a 
thief’s hiding-place — in the girls’ luggage, 
and places like that. Of course it wouldn’t be 
there. It would be in some odd corner, some 
crack, or maybe in the long grass outside. 
Don’t you know the curious places things seem 
to crawl into when you lose them — places 
you’d never think of looking?” 

“Yes, that’s true. Well, then, you think — 
what do you think we ought to do, Valerie?” 

“Look for it, of course. The Ruby is some¬ 
where . If I’m right, it’s somewhere around 
Hollingsworth Hall. What we want is to 
know just where the Princess was from the 




THE QUEST BEGINS 77 

last time she was seen wearing it until Kumari 
discovered it was gone. That’s going to be 
hard — I hate to question Miss Lucia and get 
her all stirred up again, but I don’t see any 
other way to find out.” 

“It does seem a pity,” Rosemary agreed. 
“It would be so much nicer if we could make 
our search without telling her, and come some 
day and put the Ruby into her lap. Oh, Val¬ 
erie, wouldn’t that be just perfectly thrilling? 
Wait a minute, I have an idea. She said 
Dorcas and Jefferson were with her when it 
all happened. They could tell us what we 
want to know, I should think.” 

“Of course — why didn’t I think of that? 
We won’t have to breathe a word to Miss 
Lucia. If we don’t succeed, she’ll never know, 
so she won’t be disappointed. But if we do 
— oh, Rosemary, just think of it! Won’t it 
be wonderfulV’ 

“It’ll mean some hard work, though,” Rose¬ 
mary warned her. 

“Who cares?” Valerie scoffed. “It’s worth 
it. It’ll be worth it a thousand times over, 
just to see Miss Lucia’s face! You aren’t 




78 


THE RANEE’S RUBY 

weakening, are you, Rosemary? I want you 
in this with me. But whether you’re in it or 
not, I’m going through with it.” 

“Don’t be silly. Of course I’m in it! A 
real treasure hunt, with a real treasure at the 
end of it — try to keep me out! And here we 
thought this was going to be a dull summer! 
Why, it’s going to be the most thrilling, ex¬ 
citing — O gracious, let’s hurry back to Hol¬ 
lingsworth Hall and begin!” 



Down, 


CHAPTER VII 
DR. MARCUS 

Dorcas met them at the door, her round brown 
face beaming. 

“Miss Lucia says will you-all please go 
right to the parlor, ef’n you please? She done 
had a s’prise. A mighty happy one, too, 
praises be!” 

Wondering, the two girls hastened across 
the hall to the parlor, from the half-open door 
of which came the murmur of voices. 

The partly shuttered room was dim, and 
for a moment they hesitated. Miss Lucia’s 
voice called to them, so happy, so youthful 
that they scarcely recognized it. 

“Come in, girls. I have a visitor — some 
one I’m very anxious for you to know.” A 
man’s figure in clerical black rose courteously 
as they entered. “Tell me,” the thrilled, girl¬ 
ish voice ran on, “could you possibly guess who 
this is?” 


79 


80 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

Valerie and Rosemary shyly surveyed the 
smiling face of the guest. A gentleman of 
perhaps fifty, with a spare figure and thin 
bronzed face; dark hair plentifully sprinkled 
with gray; kind eyes as deeply blue and clear 
as a baby’s. Certainly they had seen those 
eyes before. 

Rosemary was first, though Valerie spoke 
almost in the same breath. 

“It’s your brother, Miss Lucia. The one 
from India!” 

Miss Lucia smiled happily. “I told you, 
Marcus — the family resemblance is even 
stronger than when you were a little boy. But 
now let me do the honors a bit more formally. 
Miss Valerie Porter, Miss Rosemary Lovell 
— my brother, the Rev. Dr. Marcus Hollings¬ 
worth.” 

It was impossible to feel ill at ease with 
this kindly stranger. Though Dr. Hollings¬ 
worth’s face had the strong mould of earnest 
purpose, there was droll humor, too. Inside 
of five minutes the girls were chatting with 
him as with an old friend, and listening inter¬ 
estedly to the account of his long voyage. 

It was just like him, Miss Lucia said se- 



81 


DR. MARCUS 

renely, to give her no notice of his coming. 
Marcus had always been like that, boyishly 
delighting in surprises. The Mission Board 
of his church, launching an ambitious campaign 
for funds, had chosen him to make a tour of 
the United States, giving the various churches 
a first-hand account of the work their money 
was to support. His first speaking engage¬ 
ment was for early September, but the Board 
had given him leave of absence two months 
earlier so that he might enjoy a well-earned 
vacation in his boyhood home. 

Valerie and Rosemary listened sympathet¬ 
ically, sipping the tall glasses of iced tea which 
Dorcas brought them. Miss Lucia’s happi¬ 
ness was a joy to watch. When presently the 
girls made their apologies and slipped away 
to freshen up for dinner, brother and sister 
were deep in a flood of “Do you remember ?” 
that appeared capable of going on forever. 

The evening meal, a gala affair for which 
Dorcas surpassed herself with fried chicken 
and beaten biscuits, was scarcely over when 
the doorbell rang. It seemed to the girls that 
every one in town called that night to wel¬ 
come Dr. Hollingsworth home. The great 


82 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

old house, usually so empty and silent, rang 
with laughter. Miss Lucia, in her excite¬ 
ment prettier than ever, welcomed distant rel¬ 
atives and old neighbors with charming hos¬ 
pitality. 

With difficulty Valerie caught her alone to 
say good-night. “Rosemary and I are going 
upstairs now, Miss Lucia. See you in the 
morning.” 

“Good-night, dear. I sha’n’t see you at 
breakfast, though. Judge Livingstone’s son 
is going to drive us out to Meadowmoor Farm 
to spend the day. The old Judge is bedrid¬ 
den now, and Marcus was his special favor¬ 
ite. We’ll be starting at daybreak, long be¬ 
fore you girls are up. Mind you eat a good 
lunch, and see that Rosemary does, won’t 
you?” 

“I promise, Miss Lucia. Good-night, and 
have a nice time. I’m so glad for you!” she 
added impulsively, and ran to join Rosemary 
on the stairs. 

Valerie, in pyjamas and slippers, brought 
her hairbrush into Rosemary’s room for the 
nightly hundred strokes which both girls faith¬ 
fully practiced. Rosemary had left her door 


83 


DR. MARCUS 

open, and from the well of the stairway floated 
the sound of music. Miss Lucia’s tinkly 
square piano, and a chorus of voices, many of 
them a little old and quavery, singing to¬ 
gether : 

“Should auld acquaintance be forgot, 
And never brought to mind — ” 

And then, with a right good will, the rousing 
old missionary hymn: 

“From Greenland’s icy mountains 
And India’s coral strand — ” 

“They’re all glad to have him back,” Val¬ 
erie remarked. 

“I don’t blame them. He’s nice, don’t you 
think?” 

‘T certainly do. I’ve never mingled much 
with ministers,” Valerie said candidly. “I 
never even saw a missionary before. I sup¬ 
posed they were terribly goody-goody, and 
preached at you every time they opened their 
mouths. I never dreamed they could tell 
funny stories and make you laugh till your 
sides ached.” 

For a few minutes they plied their brushes 


84 


THE RANEE’S RUBY 

in silence, listening to the sweet old songs 
drifting up from below. 

“Do you suppose he minded very much?” 
Valerie asked suddenly. “Dr. Marcus, I 
mean — about the Ruby. He doesn’t look 
sad, like Miss Lucia.” * 

“Of course he minded. Didn’t he have to 
give up his mission at Patipur and start all 
over in Southern India? It was worse for 
him than it was for her, really.” 

“The Rajah will have to apologize to him 
when we find the jewel. Yes, and let him come 
back, too,” Valerie said, so firmly that Rose¬ 
mary laughed. 

“I love that ‘when’, darling. Not even ‘if.’ 
All right, we’ll let you tell the Rajah what’s 
what.” 

“And don’t ever think I won’t!” Valerie 
answered fiercely. 


CHAPTER VIII 

AS DORCAS SAW IT 

Rosemary and Valerie breakfasted alone the 
next morning. Dorcas heaped their plates 
with crisp golden corncakes, and when she 
returned to the kitchen they heard her sing¬ 
ing over her work. 

“Dr. Marcus certainly brought plenty of 
sunshine with him,” Valerie observed. “Dor¬ 
cas is almost as thrilled as Miss Lucia.” 

“She’s devoted to the family. Her mother 
was Miss Lucia’s nurse, and Dorcas herself 
was born on the place. She wouldn’t marry 
Jefferson till Miss Lucia agreed to give him 
work here. Dorcas told me all that herself, 
when I was pressing a dress in the kitchen one 
day.” 

“Let’s ask her what she knows about the 
Ruby now, sha’n’t we? This is a heaven¬ 
sent day for our search, with Miss Lucia away. 

85 


86 


THE RANEES RUBY 

And we can’t very well begin without some 
idea of where the Princess might have dropped 
it.” 

“All right. Do you think we ought to tell 
Dorcas what we’re trying to do? She’ll think 
it queer, our asking so many questions.” 

“We’ll have to tell her, Rosemary. Some¬ 
thing, anyway. She may remember some lit¬ 
tle thing that will make all the difference. 
Sh, here she comes. You talk to her. You 
know her better than I do.” 

Rosemary nodded, as Dorcas entered with 
a plate of fresh cakes. “Dorcas, can you wait 
a minute? There’s something we want to talk 
with you about.” 

“Yes’m, Miss Rosemary. Ain’t them cakes 
tender?” 

“They’re delicious. But this is something 
else. Dorcas, do you remember when the 
Princess Roshanara was here? The girl from 
India?” 

“ ’Deed an’ I do, Miss Rosemary. Mammy 
was alive then. She was cook an’ I was up¬ 
stairs-maid. Me’n Jefferson wa’n’t no more 
than a year married. Yes’m, I remembers it 
mighty well.” 


87 


AS DORCAS SAW IT 

“That’s fine. You remember the Ruby, 
then, and all the fuss there was about it?” 

The colored woman shifted her feet uneasily. 
“Yes’m, I did hear some such talk,” she admit¬ 
ted. “Maybe you-all want some more corn- 
cakes, Miss Rosemary?” 

“No, thanks, we’ve had plenty. Dorcas; 
we’re not prying into Miss Lucia’s affairs out 
of idle curiosity. She told us the story of the 
lost Ruby herself, and all the trouble it brought 
her. We know as well as you do that that 
trouble has saddened her whole life.” 

“And that’s a true word, Miss Rosemary. 
Her that never done harm to a fly, to be 
blamed like she was, it was a sin and a shame!” 

“We think so, too. And we thought maybe 
we could do something about it, Dorcas. Yes, 
even at this late day. Maybe it’s no use, but 
Miss Valerie and I are going to have a good 
try at finding what became of that jewel.” 

The tray which Dorcas had been holding 
clattered to the floor. “Bless Gawd! You 
ain’t funnin’, Miss Rosemary? You really 
means it?” 

“We really do, Dorcas. We may not suc¬ 
ceed, but we’re going to try. And we’d rather 


88 


THE RANEES RUBY 

not have Miss Lucia know anything about it 
until we do succeed.” 

“No’m, Miss Rosemary, I won’t say nuthin’ 
to her. And if me’n’ Jefferson can be any 
help, that’s the onliest thing we wants. They’s 
nuthin’ we won’t do, Miss Rosemary.” 

“We were sure we could count on you, 
Dorcas. And you can help us right at the 
beginning by giving us some information — 
things we don’t want to ask Miss Lucia about.” 

“Yes’m, Miss Rosemary, I’ll sure be glad 
to do that.” 

“Thanks. Now first of all — what is the 
first thing we want to know, Valerie?” 

“About the Ruby,” Valerie answered 
promptly. “What it looked like. There’s no 
use searching without knowing exactly what 
we’re trying to find.” 

“That’s right. You saw the Ruby, of 
course, Dorcas? Can you describe it so we 
could recognize it?” 

“I jes’ saw it on the young lady’s neck, 
Miss Rosemary. Yes’m, it was a mighty fine 
sight. ’Bout the size of a hick’ry nut, it was 
— not none of these little pig-nuts, but a good 
big shellbark. Shaped like one, too. Kinda 


89 


AS DORCAS SAW IT 

flat, not round all over. And — well, it was 
red, o’ course. Not bright red like these glass 
rubies they sells at the dime store, but blackish- 
red, more like a oxheart cherry. Nor neither 
it wa’n’t so shiny, ’cept just sometimes when 
the light fell right — then it’d send out streaks 
of red light clear to the ceilin’. It was a right 
purty thing, Miss Rosemary.” 

“How was it fastened to the chain, Dorcas?” 
Valerie asked. “With a gold ring at the 
top?” 

“No’m, Miss Val’rie, they wa’n’t no ring. 
The chain done went right thoo the Ruby. 
It was a real nice chain, too. It was gold, and 
all wove solid like a ribbon, but it wa’n’t stiff, 
neither.” 

“Was it true that there was no clasp?” 

“Yes’m, Miss Val’rie. That stuck-up col¬ 
ored woman what the Princess had — Kumari, 
her name was — she done told me it was cut 
off the queen’s neck when she died and soldered 
onto the Princess’s. It was some sorta voo¬ 
doo charm, seems like.” 

“Well, that’s fine, Dorcas,” Valerie encour¬ 
aged her. “Now let’s see — that’s all we need 
to know about the Ruby itself. Now what 


90 THE RANEES RUBY 

we’re trying to find out is when was the last 
time the Princess was seen wearing it.” 

“That’s easy, Miss Val’rie. The detective 
gentlemen done settled that. She had it on 
at the supper table the night before. I see it 
myself, and so did the young ladies. But 
nobody remembered seein’ it after supper, when 
they was all out in the yard for recreation.” 

“Was the Princess out in the yard?” Rose¬ 
mary asked, surprised. “Miss Lucia told us 
she spent all her free time in her room.” 

“Yes’m, she done that, mostly. But Miss 
Lucia fair driv her out after supper, when 
the weather was nice, for to get some fresh 
air. That Princess didn’t like fresh air no 
more’n a cat likes water, Miss Rosemary. 
She’d ruther set in that closed-up room and 
have Kumari fan her. But she was in the 
garden a little while that night, sure enough. 
She went up to her room before the other 
young ladies finished they croquet game, 
though, and Kumari with her. I see ’em go 
past the dinin’-room door whilst I was clearin’ 
the table.” 

“And did she have the Ruby on then, Dor¬ 
cas?” Valerie asked eagerly. 


91 


AS DORCAS SAW IT 

“ ’Deed an’ I never noticed, Miss Val’rie. 
The detective gentlemen ast the young ladies, 
but they hadn’t paid it no mind, neither. All 
they could make out was that she was wearin’ 
it at the supper table. Wa’n’t nobody re¬ 
membered seein’ it afterwards.” 

“The grounds are pretty big,” Valerie ob¬ 
served thoughtfully. “Do you know just 
where she was in the garden, Dorcas?” 

“Oh, yes’m, Miss Val’rie, she never got off 
the path. Just walked up and down it, they 
did, her and that stuck-up colored woman, like 
lions in a cage.” 

“Why do you call Kumari a colored woman, 
Dorcas?” Valerie asked. “The natives of In 
dia are dark, but they belong to the white 
race.” 

“Yes’m, that’s what Miss Lucia says. It 
ain’t my place to argy with her, nor with you 
young ladies, neither. But she sure look 
colored to me” Dorcas added stubbornly. 
“Blacker’n I am, any day. Callin’ herself a 
Indian, an’ she didn’t even have no feathers 
nor no blanket!” 

“Well, never mind that,” Valerie said im¬ 
patiently. “See if I have it straight. The 


92 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

Princess went from the dining-room to the 
garden, where she walked up and down the 
path for a few minutes. Then she came in — 
through the side door? And across the hall, 
upstairs to the second floor, across the land¬ 
ing, upstairs to the third floor. Down the 
main corridor there, then down the little pas¬ 
sage and into her room at the end of it. Is 
that the way she went, Dorcas? Are you 
sure? 

“Yes’m, that’s the only way they is. But 
— is you-all figgerin’ the Ruby might have 
been lost accidental-like, Miss Val’rie? Ev¬ 
erybody said it was stole.” 

“What do you think, Dorcas?” Valerie dis¬ 
regarded the question for a moment. “Miss 
Lucia says she’s sure no one connected with 
the school would have stolen the Ruby, and 
that there wasn’t any chance of an outsider 
having broken in and taken it. Do you feel 
the same way about it?” 

“Well, Miss Val’rie, it’s always been a puz¬ 
zlement,” Dorcas answered. “Many’s the 
time me and mammy used to go over it, tryin’ 
to make it out. ’Twa’n’t no burglar, that’s 
sure. Jefferson locked up downstairs before 
he went to bed, doors and windows both. 


93 


AS DORCAS SAW IT 

Wa’n’t no way to get up to them third-floor 
windows without’n a fireman’s ladder, and the 
shutters was bolted inside. We’d all ’a’ been 
mighty glad to hang it on some tramp, but 
they wa’n’t no way to do it.” 

“And how about the people in the house?” 
Valerie prodded. “Wasn’t there just one 
servant, one teacher or girl who might have 
done such a thing?” 

“No, ma'am!” Dorcas shook her head vig¬ 
orously. “Only other maid was my own 
cousin; wa’n’t none of our folks took it. Some 
of the young ladies was kinda mischeevious, 
but they was the finest quality white folks in 
this state. So was the teachers. No’m, they 
wa’n’t no thiefs here. We don’t have no such 
trash at this school.” 

“Well, then it must have been lost!” Rose¬ 
mary cried. “You’re right, Valerie, it couldn’t 
have happened any other way. And if it was 
lost — ” 

“It can be found!” Valerie sprang to her 
feet. “Thanks a lot, Dorcas; we’ll let you 
know the minute we find out anything. Come 
on, Rosemary, we’re wasting time. We’ll 
start with the garden and follow the Princess’s 
trail upstairs. Oh, do hurry!” 


CHAPTER IX 

THE TORN LETTER 

Flushed with the sun and stiff from stooping, 
the two girls answered Dorcas’s call to lunch¬ 
eon. They had been over the garden path 
inch by inch, poking with sticks between the 
mossy stone flags, even turning over any flat 
stone which seemed the least bit loose. They 
had examined the ground for several feet on 
each side of the path, too, with the most con¬ 
scientious attention to the low clumps of shrubs 
which bordered it. Jefferson, who had learned 
of their quest from Dorcas, came willingly to 
aid them, although his familiarity with the 
ground made him doubtful that any treasure 
might have escaped his diligent weeding and 
planting. 

“Never mind,” Rosemary said consolingly, 
as they took their places at the table. “The 
path is only one place — we could hardly hope 

94 


95 


THE TORN LETTER 

to find it where we first began looking. There 
are all those miles of corridors and stairs — 
dark as pitch, some of them, and that gorgeous 
old wainscoting full of cracks. And the Prin¬ 
cess’s room itself. Why, we haven’t even 
begun to look yet!” 

“Oh, I’m not discouraged, really,” Valerie 
protested. “You don’t care about dessert, do 
you, Rosemary? If we hurry, we can get in 
a good hour before we go to the Sanitarium. 
And thank goodness we’ll have the whole eve¬ 
ning. Miss Lucia and Dr. Marcus will stay 
for supper at the farm, won’t they?” 

“I’m sure they meant to. Come on, I’ve 
had enough.” 

The treasure did not come to light in the 
lower hall, nor on the first flight of the great 
stairway. Reluctantly the two girls aban¬ 
doned their search to hurry off to the Sani¬ 
tarium. 

There was no loitering in Spring Park to¬ 
day. They almost ran back to the house to 
begin where they had left off. Rosemary 
brought her flashlight, and Valerie borrowed 
a thin silver knife from the dining-room. 
Dorcas dashed their hopes a little by telling 


96 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

them that the thick old hall carpets had been 
taken up and cleaned every year since she 
could remember, with no sign of a ruby hav¬ 
ing secreted itself under their edges. This 
was so much to the good, though, as Rose¬ 
mary cheerily pointed out. It meant that they 
needn’t bother with the floors, but could con¬ 
centrate upon the fine old oak paneling which 
covered the lower third of the corridor walls. 
The floors had sagged away from it in many 
places, leaving inviting cracks which could 
quite well shelter the fallen jewel. The girls 
took turns holding the light and running the 
flat knife-blade into these cracks. 

Some quite remarkable finds rewarded their 
efforts. Innumerable pins, hairpins, pencils, 
a marble or two and a dusty lollypop came 
to light. One stubborn object which gave 
them unusual difficulty finally disclosed itself 
as a cheap tawdry lipstick, apparently never 
used. 

“I’ll bet there’s a story behind that!” Val¬ 
erie observed grimly. “Some fresh young 
thing who meant to show Miss Lucia a thing 
or two, and lost her nerve. She poked it in 
there on purpose, glad to get rid of it.” 


97 


THE TORN LETTER 

“I shouldn’t wonder.” Rosemary scram¬ 
bled to her feet and ruefully rubbed her ach¬ 
ing knees. “That finishes us here, Valerie. 
The staircase to the third floor is next, I 
guess.” 

They worked steadily on, and reached the 
little passage leading to Roshanara’s room 
without further incident. The walls here were 
plain plaster, their low baseboard fitting snugly 
to the floor, so that only a glance was needed 
to show that they afforded no hiding place. 

“Well, the room itself is left, and that’s 
really the most likely place,” Rosemary said 
gallantly. “We’ll have to get the key, though. 
We should have asked Miss Lucia for it.” 

“We know where it is; in the little brass 
box on the what-not. I’ll go get it.” 

“But we didn’t ask her, Valerie.” 

“Oh, bother! She gave it to us once, didn’t 
she? We can’t ask her — she isn’t here for 
one thing, and for another, she’d wonder what 
we wanted with it, and we can’t tell her. Are 
you coming?” 

“All right. I don’t suppose she’d mind, as 
long as we’re careful. We’ll have to wash 
our hands, though, before we touch all that 


98 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

lovely silk. Mine are positively grubby.” 

They stopped at Valerie’s room on their 
way down to remove the grime of the search, 
and were surprised to find that it was well past 
meal time. They hurried downstairs, where 
Dorcas was anxiously awaiting them. She 
had hesitated to call them, and her face fell 
as Rosemary slipped into her place with a 
shake of the head. 

“No luck so far, Dorcas, but we’re still 
hoping. Could you hurry supper along, 
please? We haven’t any time to spare.” 

“Well, it isn’t here!” 

Valerie tried to smile as she threw herself 
down beside Rosemary on the low satin divan 
which had served the little Princess for a bed. 

Carefully, and restoring the exquisite or¬ 
derliness of the lovely room as they went, the 
two girls had searched every inch of floor, 
turned over cushions, rolled back the silken 
rugs. Sunset flamed at the windows as they 
shook the heavy draperies, peered behind 
tapestry, pinched the pillows and examined 
the lamps. The day was fading into twi¬ 
light when, utterly weary and disheartened, 


99 


THE TORN LETTER 

Valerie voiced her disappointing conclusion. 

Rosemary struggled in vain to find some re¬ 
assuring answer. Her eyes roamed about the 
room, searching for some hiding place they 
might have overlooked. They fell upon one 
of the marble pedestals supporting a carved 
urn. 

“The potpourri jars!” she exclaimed sud¬ 
denly. “Did we look in them?” 

“I did,” Valerie answered gloomily. “Dead 
rose leaves in two of the jars; ashes of in¬ 
cense in the other two. Nothing that looked 
like the Ruby.” 

“Are you sure?” Rosemary persisted. 
“They’re pretty deep. She could have been 
bending over one of them, and the Ruby 
dropped down among the rose leaves or the 
ashes — and got covered up — ” 

“It didn’t, though. I ran my fingers right 
down to the bottom. Still — ” Valerie rose 
with a flash of hopefulness. “There’s no harm 
in making sure again. Let’s empty them, 
shall we?” 

“All right.” Rosemary unwound a bright 
square scarf from her neck and spread it on 
the floor. 


) j 



100 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

“You can dump the rose petals on this; then 
we won’t have any trouble putting them back.” 

Valerie was already lifting one jar from its 
marble pedestal. The jar itself was marble, 
glistening white with faintly pink veinings, 
and delicately carved with twining roses. On 
the lid the rose pattern was pierced through, 
with leaf-shaped openings through which the 
imprisoned fragrance had once escaped to 
scent the room. Valerie lifted the lid and set 
it on the floor; then very carefully she held 
the jar above Rosemary’s scarf and shook out 
its contents. 

For a moment the two girls looked at the 
little heap of dead petals in silence, then Val¬ 
erie managed a laugh. “Well, anyway, there 
are three other jars!” 

The urns in which incense had been burned 
were of the same size and shape as the rose 
jars, but the carving represented trumpet flow¬ 
ers instead of roses, and they were lined inside 
with brass. They were filled almost to the 
top with light powdery ashes, still faintly 
scented. 

The ashes from the fourth, and last, jar 
lay in a forlorn heap on the bright scarf. 


THE TORN LETTER 101 

Valerie, seated cross-legged on the floor, 
looked across at her friend. 

“Well, this seems to end it, doesn’t it? The 
Great Search is over, and here’s all we have 
to show for it. A pile of ashes.” 

Rosemary looked at her helplessly. Anx¬ 
ious as she had been to succeed for Miss 
Lucia’s sake, she felt Valerie’s disappoint¬ 
ment even more keenly. Miss Lucia, after 
all, had long since resigned herself to the mys¬ 
tery. But this search had been Valerie’s idea; 
she had been so proud of her theory, so eager 
to test it! And now — 

“I’m so sorry, Valerie,” Rosemary mur¬ 
mured. “But you mustn’t mind too much. 
It was jus’j a chance; we were never sure, you 
know.” 

“Oh, I know. It was silly of me to build 
my hopes so high.” Valerie’s slim white fin¬ 
gers began restlessly sifting the heap of ashes 
as she talked. “I might have known we 
couldn’t succeed where detectives and people 
like that had failed. But just the same — 
oh, it’s perfectly maddening! That Ruby is 
somewhere; it didn’t just melt away like a — 
like an icicle! And I still don’t believe it was 


102 THE RANEES RUBY 

stolen! And if it wasn’t stolen, it was lost; 
and if it was lost, it was lost here, in this house. 
It must be here, it can't be anywhere else!” 

She clenched her hand vehemently among 
the ashes as she spoke. Then, opening her 
fingers, she looked down at them with a startled 
expression. 

“Hello — I didn’t notice this before!” 
Clinging to her palm was a wisp of crumpled 
paper. 

“What is it?” Rosemary bent forward as 
Valerie straightened it out. The scrap was 
small, with charred edges, covered on both 
sides with curious marks in jet-black ink. 

Idly Valerie raked about among the ashes, 
with the result that she presently had a pile 
of ten or twelve pieces of the thick torn paper, 
most of it burned about the edges. None of 
the pieces was larger than a square inch, and 
most were smaller. All were covered with 
tiny distinct characters. 

“It must have been something of Rosh- 
anara’s,” Rosemary said. “I suppose that’s 
Indian writing? I wonder why she burned 
it?” 

Valerie, with sudden interest, had been bend- 


THE TORN LETTER 103 

ing over the scraps of paper, trying to fit them 
together. Now she said solemnly, “Rose¬ 
mary, I believe this means something. Oh, 
don’t laugh! We can’t just stop here and 
give it all up, after all our hopes and plans. 
We have to find out what became of the Ruby, 
we just have to. You know that.” 

“Well, of course we have to, if we can,” 
Rosemary agreed doubtfully. “But — you 
mean you think this torn-up letter might help 
us?” 

“I do think so. Oh, don’t ask me why — 
there isn’t any reason; not any sensible one 
that I can explain, anyway. It’s just a feel¬ 
ing. But — these scraps of paper must have 
belonged to the Princess. We don’t know 
that they have any connection with the Ruby, 
I’ll admit. But we don’t know that they 
haven’t, either, do we? They’re the only thing 
we’ve found that even looks like a clue. And 
I believe they are!” 

“Well, I’m not saying they aren’t,” Rose¬ 
mary answered. “Only I can’t quite see — 
wait a minute. This takes some thinking out. 
What possible connection could there be be¬ 
tween the Ruby and a partly destroyed paper? 


104 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

Keep still a minute, will you, Valerie? I want 
to concentrate.” 

Valerie waited hopefully, her eyes on Rose¬ 
mary’s absorbed face. The room was dark¬ 
ening now. The long day of eager searching 
was drawing to its end, and the Ruby re¬ 
mained as maddeningly elusive as ever. If 
this last hope, this possible clue which might 
mean anything or nothing failed them — Val¬ 
erie’s high courage flickered distressingly. 
Oh, it couldn’t end like this, it simply couldn’t! 
There must be something to go on with. 

“Got it!” Rosemary clapped her hands to¬ 
gether. “Here you are, Valerie, a perfectly 
possible connection. I don’t say it’s what did 
happen, mind, but it could have been! And if 
it is, then it fits in beautifully with your theory 
that Roshanara lost the Ruby and was afraid 
to tell — it makes her look a little less detest¬ 
able, too, though not much — ” 

“Never mind that!” Valerie urged her fever¬ 
ishly. “Go on, Rosemary — can’t you see 
I’m just burning up with suspense? Tell 
me!” 

“Maybe you won’t think so much of it,” 
Rosemary admitted, “but it sounds reasonable 


THE TORN LETTER 105 

to me. Just suppose Roshanara did as you 
said — lost the Ruby, and let Miss Lucia and 
the school take the blame. And pretty soon 
she found out that she was to be taken home. 
Now I don’t suppose that that was exactly 
bad news to her. From what Miss Lucia 
told us she wasn’t happy here, and she was 
probably glad enough to go.” 

“That’s all right so far,” Valerie put in im¬ 
patiently. “But get on with it, can’t you? 
You’re so slow!” 

“Well, imagine you’re the Princess. 
You’ve lost your sacred jewel, but you’ve es¬ 
caped punishment by making a lot of trouble 
for some one else — some one like Miss Lucia, 
who’s been kind to you, or tried to be. You’re 
going back to your beloved palace, never to 
see her again. Don’t you suppose that even 
a spoiled, selfish little thing like the Princess 
must have been would have some sort of con¬ 
science-spasm about then? Not enough to 
confess and clear up the whole thing, unfor¬ 
tunately. If she did that, she’d have to stay. 
But suppose that she decided to compromise. 
She’d write a letter, admitting that she was to 
blame for the loss, and leave the letter behind, 


106 


THE RANEE’S RUBY 

to be found after she was safely home again. 
Then — ” 

“Then even that little spark of honesty died, 
and she tore up the letter and burned it!” Val¬ 
erie finished excitedly. “Why, Rosemary, 
that’s wonderful! What it is to have a mind 
like yours — I’ll never poke fun at your ‘con¬ 
centrating’ again. Why — why, then, the pa¬ 
per is a clue! Oh, I knew it, I felt it all the 
time. I told you it was!” 

“It isn’t a clue to the whereabouts of the 
Ruby, though,” Rosemary pointed out reluc¬ 
tantly. “Roshanara didn’t know that, remem¬ 
ber. Now don’t begin to cloud up, honey. If 
it is a confession, it will clear Miss Lucia, and 
that’s what we want.” 

“I suppose so, though it would be lots more 
dramatic to produce the Ruby itself. Well, 
come on, Rosemary, help me. We have to 
get this jigsaw puzzle together. Oh, bother! 
Some of the edges are burned — they wouldn’t 
fit now, even if they were meant to.” 

“Looks pretty hopeless, doesn’t it? And 
we couldn’t read it if we did get it together.” 

“Mercy, I hadn’t thought of that. Well, 
then, what’ll we do?” 


107 


THE TORN LETTER 

“Dr. Marcus could help us,” Rosemary sug¬ 
gested. “He’d know the language, of course. 
I think the best thing for now is just to gather 
up the pieces and save them until we can show 
them to him.” 

“And go to bed to-night without knowing? 
Oh, you reasonable people — you drive me 
wild! I suppose there’s no other way, 
though.” Valerie gathered all the bits of pa¬ 
per together and tied them securely into her 
handkerchief. “There won’t be a chance to 
talk to Dr. Marcus to-night, even if we wait 
up for them to come back. And I’m utterly 
dead. My back aches, and my shoulders, and 
my knees. Let’s go right off to bed, Rose¬ 
mary. It’ll make the morning come faster.” 


CHAPTER X 
MOTHER INDIA 

Difficult though she found it, Valerie was 
obliged to control her impatience to show Dr. 
Marcus the letter. It seemed simply impos¬ 
sible to find him alone. When he was not 
visiting with old friends and neighbors, his 
devoted sister kept him company. Valerie 
thought it extremely trying that when Dr. 
Marcus settled himself on the veranda after 
breakfast, with the morning paper, Miss Lucia 
invariably brought her embroidery and sat be¬ 
side him. 

The third day after the finding of the let¬ 
ter, however, brought better luck. It was a 
beautiful morning of lazy summer heat. Miss 
Lucia and her brother were rocking peacefully 
on the veranda when a little negro boy came 
flying up the walk. “Mis’ Jenny”, one of 
Miss Lucia’s oldest friends, had been “took 


108 


MOTHER INDIA 109 

bad with the sun”, while working in her gar¬ 
den. The little lady instantly prepared to 
answer the summons. 

Rosemary and Valerie, idly turning over a 
garden magazine between them, were sitting 
on the veranda steps near Dr. Marcus. As 
Miss Lucia unfurled the ruffled parasol with¬ 
out which she never ventured into the sun¬ 
light, gathered up her dimity skirts and flitted 
off down the walk, Valerie flashed a trium¬ 
phant smile at Rosemary. This was her long- 
awaited opportunity. 

“Tell us about India, Dr. Marcus,” she be¬ 
gan artfully. “Rosemary and I were won¬ 
dering the other day about the language. 
Isn’t it awfully hard to learn? Father has 
a friend, a professor at an Eastern University, 
who is supposed to be a great Sanskrit scholar. 
From the way Father talks, I got the impres¬ 
sion that — well, that it was something to 
know Sanskrit!” 

Dr. Marcus smiled. “You’re quite right, 
my dear. To be a thoroughly learned Sans¬ 
krit scholar is indeed, as you say, 'something.’ 
I don’t profess any such depth of knowledge 
myself.” 


110 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

“Oh!” Valerie’s face fell. “But how could 
you talk to the natives, then? I should think 
you would have to know it.” 

“I’m afraid you’re a little confused, Miss 
Valerie. India has such a multitude of lan¬ 
guages and dialects that it’s only natural. 
Sanskrit is the ancient language in which the 
ages-old Hindu books are written, and is 
studied only by scholars and native priests. 
I have a superficial knowledge of it, acquired 
at college, but to know it thoroughly is the 
work of a lifetime. Since my work deals with 
the present, not the past, I found it more 
profitable to devote myself chiefly to the study 
of Hindostanee, the modern vernacular which 
in one form or another is the common lan¬ 
guage of Indians to-day.” 

“Oh, I didn’t know that!” Valerie looked 
relieved. “I suppose you’ve guessed that I 
don’t know anything about India, really. Do 
tell us about Hindostanee, then. Is it dif¬ 
ficult?” 

“Why, no, I shouldn’t say so, as languages 
go. English children in India pick it up very 
readily from their native nurses. Of course 
there are different dialects, depending chiefly 


MOTHER INDIA 111 

upon the religious sects of the people. A 
Muslim, or Mohammedan, for instance, uses 
the Urdu dialect, where a Hindu would use 
the Hindi. Our converts at the missions, 
though they are all Christians together, speak 
whatever dialect they brought over from their 
old faith.” 

“Now I’m going to expose my ignorance,” 
Rosemary broke in. She had been listening, 
deeply interested, but hesitating to interrupt. 
At Dr. Hollingsworth’s encouraging nod she 
hurried on. 

“I’m all mixed up about Hindus and Mus¬ 
lims. Isn’t any native of India a Hindu? I 
thought that was the word they used, because 
we’d taken ‘Indian’ for our Indians. Have I 
been wrong all these years?” 

“Entirely wrong, my dear. But don’t let 
it distress you. I’ve met plenty of grown 
men, educated men, too, among Americans, 
who had the same impression. Everywhere 
outside of America an Indian is a native of 
India. Our red men they call ‘American In¬ 
dians’, or ‘Red Indians.’ Is it clear now?” 

“It’s getting clearer, thanks. But then — 
just what is a Hindu?” 


112 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

“He is a person of a certain religious faith, 
as we would say a Baptist or a Presbyterian. 
Hinduism, which is sometimes called Brahmin- 
ism, is the original religion of India, dating 
back into antiquity, some say as much as 
twenty centuries before the Christian era.” 

“I’ve read something about it,” Rosemary 
said diffidently. “It’s called Buddhism, too, 
isn’t it?” 

“My dear child!” Dr. Marcus shook his 
head at her. “Buddhism is something en¬ 
tirely different — a purer, nobler faith, to 
Western minds. It is true that Gautama 
Buddha, its founder, was an Indian of high 
rank. When, in the sixth century b.c., he 
preached his new doctrine, he found many fol¬ 
lowers in his own country. In the century af¬ 
ter his death, however, India gradually re¬ 
verted to the old ways, so that now there are 
but a handful of his followers there. You 
would have to go to China, and especially to 
Thibet, to find any considerable number of 
Buddhists.” 

Valerie stirred restlessly. Just when she 
had brought the conversation around to the 
Indian language, as a preliminary to asking 


MOTHER INDIA 113 

Dr. Marcus to translate the letter, Rosemary 
had diverted his attention to a discussion of 
historical religions. And this was such a won¬ 
derful opportunity, with Miss Lucia out of 
the way — really, it was too provoking of 
Rosemary! She reached out an apparently 
aimless hand, and gave her friend a quick 
pinch on the shoulder. 

Startled, Rosemary glanced at her, to meet 
a warning frown. Through the pocket of 
Valerie’s blouse she could see the bits of paper 
patiently awaiting attention, and she flushed 
guiltily. Dr. Marcus, however, talked se¬ 
renely on. 

“Next to the Hindus in number, we have 
the Muslim population — these two make up 
the major religious divisions, although there 
are many minor sects, among which so far 
we must include our own Christian congrega¬ 
tions. Mohammedanism, or Islamism, to give 
it its correct name, was brought to India by 
successive waves of Northern invaders — Per¬ 
sians, Arabs, Turks, all of whom professed 
allegiance to the Prophet. Babur, the merci¬ 
less Tartar who founded the Moghul rule 
which only ended with the English occupa- 



114 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

tion, was a Muslim. In many provinces the 
native Hindus were forcibly converted or put 
to the sword, so there is little wonder that 
Islamism gained a firm hold in India. Most 
of the misunderstandings and quarrels which 
harass India today are due to this conflict 
of religions.” 

He stopped suddenly, with the trained 
speaker’s quick perception that the attention 
of his audience was wandering. 

“Fm afraid you’re finding me insufferably 
dull, young ladies. I really didn’t intend to 
deliver a lecture. Why didn’t you stop me?” 

“Oh, but we’re enjoying it!” Rosemary pro¬ 
tested. “There’s so much we don’t know; 
more than we can ever learn, it seems to me. 
Do you mind if I ask another question?” 

Rosemary glanced at Valerie. She would 
show her that she, too, could manage things. 

“I was so interested a little while ago when 
you were talking about the language — Hin- 
dostanee, wasn’t it? Don’t they use a differ¬ 
ent alphabet from ours?” 

“Yes, indeed. There are several alphabets, 
all variations of the ancient Sanskrit. Indian 
wise men claim that they gave the numerals 


MOTHER INDIA 115 

to the Arabs, who, as you know, passed them 
on to us. The characters of the Nagari al¬ 
phabet, the one most commonly used among 
modern Hindus, are the most artistic, I think. 
I’m sorry — he fumbled in his pocket. “I 
thought I had a letter here from one of our 
native teachers. I wanted to show you how 
the written Hindi looks.” 

“Now!” Rosemary whispered tensely to Val¬ 
erie, who promptly slipped her hand into her 
pocket. 

“Maybe you can tell us something about 
this, Dr. Marcus,” she said, with a tremor of 
excitement in her voice. “Rosemary and I 
found these scraps of paper, and we wondered 
if the writing mightn’t be the kind we’re talk¬ 
ing about.” 

“Hm, let me see.” Dr. Marcus adjusted 
his glasses, and spread the bits of paper out 
on his knee. “Very interesting. Yes, this 
is the Hindi — how odd. Beautifully writ¬ 
ten, too; I should say by some one trained in 
the native colleges of law. I’m afraid it’s a 
little too fragmentary to translate for you. 
Here is one word — ‘the-thing-which-is-to- 
be-done.’ And this phrase, 'so saith our 


116 THE RANEES RUBY 

Lord — 5 Hm. Why, what — no, it’s im¬ 
possible!” He held one of the fragments 
closer to his eyes, scrutinized it carefully, and 
laid it down. 

The girls looked at him in amazement. The 
healthy color had drained from his tanned face, 
leaving it suddenly old, and worn, and very 
sad. His voice was unsteady when he spoke. 

4 ‘There is a name mentioned here — one 
which I have not heard for many years, but 
which I have reason to remember. May I 
ask you young ladies to tell me exactly how 
you came by this paper?” 




CHAPTER XI 
WHAT DOES IT MEAN? 

Valerie gathered her courage together. 

“We’ve been wanting to tell you, Dr. Mar¬ 
cus,” she said tremulously. “It may seem 
to you that we’re meddling, prying into things 
that are none of our business, but — oh, we 
hope you won’t think that! We’re so fond of 
Miss Lucia, Rosemary and I, and we’re so 
anxious to help her — please don’t think it’s 
just silly curiosity!” 

Dr. Marcus’s face relaxed a little. 

“Calm yourself, my dear child. I am sure 
that neither of you would act from any but 
the highest motives. In what way are you 
trying to help my sister, and what have these 
scraps of paper to do with it?” 

Valerie took a deep breath, and plunged into 
her explanation. 

“It’s about the Ranee’s Ruby — you know, 


117 


118 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

the one that the Princess Roshanara brought 
with her from India and lost.” At the name 
a deeper shadow fell across the good doctor’s 
face, but Valerie hurried on. “Miss Lucia 
told us about it, Dr. Marcus. We were ex¬ 
ploring the house — she said we could — and 
we found Roshanara’s room, just as she had 
left it. Only it was locked up, and Miss 
Lucia guessed that we would be curious — 
we didn’t ask her, did we, Rosemary? She 
gave us the key, and then she told us the story. 
And — well, it made us simply furious to 
think that she was treated like that. And we 
thought that maybe — oh, it sounds silly, I 
know, but we did think if we tried very hard, 
perhaps we could solve the mystery and find 
out what really did become of the Ruby.” 

“I see. A very kindly thought, my dear 
girls, though I fear a little impracticable. No 
doubt my sister appreciates the spirit of it, 
however.” 

“Oh, but Miss Lucia doesn’t know!” Rose¬ 
mary put in. “We haven’t said a word to 
her, and we don’t intend to unless we succeed. 
She’s had enough worry and trouble over the 
whole business. It would be cruel for us to 


WHAT DOES IT MEAN? 119 

bring it all up again unless it might be to end 
it for good.” 

Dr. Marcus nodded approvingly. “That is 
thoughtful. My poor sister has indeed suf¬ 
fered greatly, and unjustly, over this unhappy 
business. It would be a blessing if it could 
all be cleared up, but unfortunately there 
seems little possibility of such an event.” 

“You don’t think the letter is a clue, then?” 
Valerie asked disappointedly. “We thought 
— oh, you tell him, Rosemary. You’re bet¬ 
ter than I am at getting things straight.” 

Rosemary quickly outlined their theory that 
the Princess had lost the jewel accidentally, 
and described their search. She told of the 
finding of the scraps of paper in Roshanara’s 
room, and rather shyly recounted the “confes¬ 
sion” theory which she had thought out to fit 
the case. 

Dr. Marcus listened with attention, but 
when she had finished he smiled a little sadly. 
“I’m afraid things don’t happen so providen¬ 
tially in real life. This letter was not writ¬ 
ten by the Princess Roshanara.” 

He did not see the look of blank disappoint¬ 
ment that passed over the faces of the girls, 


120 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

for he was intently studying the scraps of 
paper spread out on his knee. Neither of 
them spoke. There seemed nothing to say in 
answer to that authoritative statement. 

For the moment Dr. Marcus seemed to 
have forgotten them. He was trying now to 
fit the pieces of paper together, frowning 
when the burned edges did not fit. The fact 
that all the scraps were covered with writing 
on both sides added to his difficulty. 

The girls watched silently. Presently he 
took out his penknife, and with infinite care 
split the thick paper, so that all the writing 
was visible at once. At last he seemed to 
have satisfied himself that he had arranged the 
pieces in the most nearly correct order. He 
took pencil and notebook from his pocket, and 
began writing, frowning, scratching out, writ¬ 
ing again. 

“This is the best I can do,” he said at last. 
“I have filled in missing words by guesswork, 
so I can’t vouch for the accuracy of the trans¬ 
lation. But this, or something like it, must 
be the sense of the message.” 

He cleared his throat, and then very slowly 
he read aloud: 


WHAT DOES IT MEAN? 121 

“ 'Greetings, O Kumari. Thus saith our 
Lord Bir Bal, through his servant Bhagwan 
Das. The power of the Meddling One waxeth 
great beyond endurance. Therefore saith our 
Lord, the Thing-Which-Is-To-Be-Done, let 
it be done speedily, and in this manner.’ ” 

“That ends the first page,” Dr. Marcus ob¬ 
served. “On the opposite side we find this: 

“ 'That She-Who-Is-Without-Charm be ac¬ 
claimed wholly vile, and the might of the Med¬ 
dling One cast down. Great shall be the tri¬ 
umph of Parvati thereby, and great shall be 
her reward to those who serve her.’ ” 

“Is that all?” Valerie asked blankly. “Oh, 
that’s terrible! Not a word about the Ruby, 
or the Princess. It isn’t even written to her, 
is it? Kumari — that was her maid. We’ve 
been wasting our time and building our hopes 
on some crazy letter-from-home to the maid! 
This is positively the most discouraging thing 
that’s happened yet.” 

“You said you recognized a name, Dr. Mar¬ 
cus,” Rosemary ventured. “Was it Ku- 
man s? 

“Eh?” Dr. Marcus had been studying his 
translation again, absorbedly comparing it 


122 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

with the original. “Oh, the name. No, I 
didn’t see the reference to Kumari at first. 
What caught my eye and brought back recol¬ 
lections — rather painful ones, I’m afraid — 
was the name £ Bir Bal.’ ” 

He tore from his notebook the sheet upon 
which he had written the translation, and 
handed it to Valerie, with the original bits of 
paper. “I am truly sorry, my dear, that your 
discovery did not yield the results you hoped 
for. You were asking, Miss Rosemary—? 
Oh, yes, about Lord Bir Bal. I am afraid 
my manner was a trifle brusque just now, 
young ladies — please accept my apologies. I 
was upset by the sight of Bir Bal’s name. 
Perhaps if I tell you something of what that 
name meant to me in the past, you will under¬ 
stand.” 

He paused to collect his thoughts, and the 
girls waited tensely. 

“I was a very young man when I went out 
to Patipur,” Dr. Marcus began at last. “En¬ 
thusiastic, and perhaps not very tactful. The 
Rajah’s warm welcome inspired me to great 
hopefulness, and with all my energy I set 
about what I believed was my sacred task, the 



WHAT DOES IT MEAN? 123 

enlightenment and uplifting of the native peo¬ 
ple. I did not dream that I should meet with 
opposition. It was not for many months that 
I realized that there were those at court who 
did not share the Rajah’s views.” 

He sighed. “Lord Bir Bal was a great 
noble. He had been a counselor of the old 
Rajah, and was highly respected by the young 
Rai Singh. He was bitterly opposed, how¬ 
ever, to the Prince’s introduction of modern 
ideas. He did not proclaim that fact openly, 
but gradually I was made to realize that he was 
hampering my progress step by step, in a 
hundred subtle ways. I have always felt that 
it was Bir Bal’s counsel, aided by the reports 
of his nephew, Bhagwan Das, which caused the 
Rajah to act so hastily when the Ruby disap¬ 
peared.” 

“It was Bhagwan Das who wrote the let¬ 
ter, wasn’t it?” Rosemary grasped the chance 
to turn to a less painful subject. “Doesn’t it 
seem queer that he should be corresponding 
with the Princess’s maid?” 

“That is easily explained. The Rajah at 
that time had large American investments, and 
Bhagwan Das, a brilliant young lawyer, had 


124 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

been sent to New York to look after them. 
He acted as the Rajah’s agent in this country, 
and naturally had charge of the Princess’s 
stay here. Her tuition fees were paid from 
his office, and it was through him that she re¬ 
ceived her extravagant allowance. As the 
Princess was so young, he would transact all 
business matters with Kumari, who, by the 
way, was far more than a mere servant. She 
had been with the Ranee from the time of her 
marriage, and enjoyed the full confidence of 
the Rajah. In effect Kumari and Bhagwan 
Das together acted as the guardians of the 
little Princess while she was in this country.” 

“I see.” Rosemary said thoughtfully. 
“That makes the letter a little clearer, then. 
Bhagwan Das was giving Kumari instructions 
of some sort. He says they’re from Bir Bal, 
and I suppose Bir Bal got them from the 
Rajah. Rather roundabout way of doing 
business, it seems to me.” 

“Oriental methods are roundabout,” Dr. 
Marcus agreed. “Western business men are 
invariably exasperated when they attempt any 
transactions with Indians. I daresay Orien¬ 
tals find our direct methods equally annoying. 


WHAT DOES IT MEAN? 125 

I know that the Rajah’s American ventures 
turned out most unsatisfactorily; so much so 
that they were discontinued within a few 
years.” 

Valerie had been studying the scribbled 
translation since Rosemary mentioned the let¬ 
ter. 

“What does he mean by ‘She-Who-Is-With- 
out-Charm?’ ” she asked now. 

Dr. Marcus shook his head. “Some mutual 
acquaintance, I presume. It is an uncompli¬ 
mentary term which I have heard applied to 
spinsters — chiefly English ladies living in In¬ 
dia, for among the Indians themselves unmar¬ 
ried women are very rare. A Hindu father 
would consider himself unworthy of the name 
if he failed to find a husband for his daughter, 
and he can only conclude that our old maids 
are so hopelessly unattractive that no man 
would have them.” 

“Well, I like that!” Valerie exclaimed in¬ 
dignantly. “Don’t they realize that a girl 
would rather have no husband than just any 
sort her father might find?” 

“Not a Hindu girl. And they’d find it 
quite impossible to believe that any girl could 


126 THE RANEES RUBY 

reason in that way. A woman must have a 
husband — a good one, preferably, but if not, 
a bad one. That is only one of the many harm¬ 
ful attitudes which we are combating through 
our work at the missions.” 

“Well, I hope you succeed!” Valerie ex¬ 
claimed fervently. “My gracious, I never 
heard of anything so dumb!” Then, reverting 
to present problems, she went on anxiously, 
“You don’t think the letter is any good to us, 
Dr. Marcus? It’s our only clue, and I hate 
to give it up. I’ve just set my heart on find¬ 
ing out what became of the Ruby for Miss 
Lucia. And Rosemary has, too.” 

“I’m sorry, my dears.” Dr. Marcus shook 
his head helplessly. “I can see no connection 
between the letter and the Ruby. Apparently 
it deals with some business affair between 
Bhagwan Das and the nurse. It sounds 
mysterious, of course, but that is only because 
so much of the document is missing. I have 
no doubt that, had the body of the letter es¬ 
caped burning, it would afford us a very 
commonplace explanation.” 

“I suppose you’re right,” Valerie answered 
dispiritedly. “But I hate to think it. Oh, 


WHAT DOES IT MEAN? 127 

there comes Miss Lucia! You won’t say any¬ 
thing about all this to her, Dr. Marcus?” 

“Certainly not. But I want you to know 
that I, at least, am grateful for the friendly 
interest you young ladies have shown.” 


CHAPTER XII 
NEVER GIVE UP! 

Returning from the Sanitarium that after¬ 
noon, Valerie and Rosemary found that they 
were to have dinner alone. Miss Lucia and 
her brother were dining and spending the eve¬ 
ning with friends. 

The two girls finished their meal and retired 
to the side veranda, which was their favorite 
lounging place. It was here that Rosemary 
had seen Valerie give way to her grief, and it 
was here that their friendship had its begin¬ 
ning. Valerie spoke of that evening now as 
they settled themselves to watch the sunset. 

“Do you remember that night when you 
found me, or I found you, out here? It’s only 
been — let’s see, not quite four weeks ago. 
But it seems to me it was ages! I don’t believe 
I’ve ever been quite so unhappy as I was that 
night.” 


128 


129 


NEVER GIVE UP! 

“You were generous with your misery, too. 
Perfectly willing to pass it around, with a nice 
big chunk for me. You certainly were mean 
that night, Valerie.” 

“Well, how about you? You told me you 
didn’t like me a bit, and that the less we had 
to do with each other the better pleased you’d 
be. Nice sunny nature you showed, I must 
say.” 

“Oh, Valerie, I didn’t say that! At least 
— well, maybe I did, but you surely know I 
didn’t mean it.” 

“You did mean it, and a good thing, too. I 
must have been a perfect pest in those days. 
I don’t know whether you’ve noticed it,” she 
went on with a touch of shyness, “but I think 
I’ve improved a little — my manner, you know. 
Of course I’ll never really be like Miss Lucia, 
but — ” 

“So that’s where it’s coming from!” Rose¬ 
mary interrupted. “Of course I’ve noticed. 
You’re not a bit snippy any more, and you 
don’t go around with your nose in the air the 
way you did at first. It’s an enormous im¬ 
provement, if you don’t mind my saying so.” 

“I’d be fearfully disappointed if you didn’t 


130 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

say so. Even Father notices it. He asked 
me this afternoon if I wasn’t feeling well; he 
said I seemed to sort of slink into the room in¬ 
stead of bouncing in. I had to tell him that I 
was practising quiet grace. Poor dear, he was 
quite bewildered, but you could see he was 
pleased. After a while he remarked that my 
mother was the most perfect lady he’d ever 
known, and that I was growing more like her 
every day. I thought that was worth all the 
trouble.” 

“I should think so! Your father’s getting 
better, isn’t he, Valerie?” 

“Oh, lots! He’s stronger every time I see 
him, more like his old self. Dr. Bowman says 
he can have visitors now. I thought if your 
brother could spare you I’d like to take you in 
to see Father to-morrow. I’ve told him so 
much about you, and I’d love to have you two 
meet.” 

“I’d love it, too. Yes, of course Timmy can 
spare me. He’s in the swimming pool most 
of the time, anyway, splashing around with a 
bunch of youngsters he’s made friends with. 
I took some snapshots to-day — I want Mums 
to see for herself how his poor little legs are 


NEVER GIVE UP! 131 

straightening out. We just can’t be thankful 
enough, Mums and I, that our doctor sent us 
here.” 

“Me, too! Miss Lucia was right, wasn’t 
she? Do you remember that day we came, she 
told us Dr. Bowman didn’t accept patients he 
couldn’t help? I thought she was just trying 
to cheer us up then, but she knew what she was 
talking about, bless her!” 

“You’re pretty fond of Miss Lucia, aren’t 
you, Valerie? And you came prepared thor¬ 
oughly to dislike her, and every one in her 
house.” 

“Must you bring that up? I thought I’d 
lived down those days. Yes, I am fond of 
Miss Lucia — even more than you are, I think. 
You have your mother, but I’ve never had 
any one. I mean any older woman, to look 
up to, and pattern after. I think Miss Lucia’s 
perfectly darling!” 

“Well, so do I. You needn’t think you’re 
the only admirer she has around here.” 

“I know. And, oh, Rosemary, I do wish 
we could do what we want to for her! To save 
my life I don’t see how we can, but it seems to 
me I just can’t give it up.” 



132 THE RANEES RUBY 

“You mean about the Ruby?” 

“Yes. I was pretty much discouraged after 
our talk with Dr. Marcus this afternoon, but 
I’m beginning to get a little glimmer of hope 
back. Enough to go on with, anyway. After 
all, we haven’t proved that the letter has noth¬ 
ing to do with the Ruby. It’s a mysterious- 
sounding thing, even Dr. Marcus admitted 
that. The way I see it, it’s as though we were 
lost in a wood, and here’s a tiny, hopeless-look¬ 
ing path in front of us. It’s no good standing 
there and saying you can’t see any reason why 
that path should lead us home. Maybe it 
won’t, but we have to explore it to find out, 
don’t we? Especially if it’s the only path in 
sight.” 

“I see what you mean.” Rosemary was 
struck with Valerie’s unusual logic, as well as 
with her earnestness. “There’s something in 
it, too. A lot of great discoveries would never 
have been made if people hadn’t been willing to 
take a chance that looked pretty feeble. I 
don’t see, though,” she went on unwillingly, 
“how we’re going to follow your path. I’ll be 
right behind you if you can find the way, but it 
doesn’t seem to me that the letter leads any 


133 


NEVER GIVE UP! 

place. More like a stone wall than a path, if 
you ask me.” 

“Rosemary, please!” 

“I’m sorry, honey. I don’t mean to be 
pouring cold water all the time. If you’ll 
think of something to do I’ll try my best to 
help. I’m just as anxious to get to the bot¬ 
tom of this as you are, but it’s only that I don’t 
know how.” 

“Well, I don’t either, but that doesn’t mean 
that there isn’t a way,” Valerie answered dog¬ 
gedly. “If we only had the rest of the let¬ 
ter! I do think Kumari might have been a 
little more careless with it! Tearing it up was 
enough; she didn’t have to make it harder by 
burning most of it.” 

Rosemary checked a laugh at Valerie’s ag¬ 
grieved tone. “Which was Kumari’s room, I 
wonder? Maybe she left some bits lying 
around there.” 

“I never thought of that!” Valerie’s face 
lighted up. “Good for you, Rosemary, — you 
have all the bright ideas! Let’s go ask Dorcas 
right away — it isn’t too late to have a look 
to-night.” 

“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait till morning, 


134 THE RANEE S RUBY 

Valerie. Dorcas and Jefferson have the eve¬ 
ning off — I think there’s a wedding down in 
Darkey-town.’’ 

“Oh, bother! It seems to me all we do is 
wait. Well, at least there’s something to wait 
for. And some way, I do feel more hopeful 
than I did this afternoon. As long as we can 
keep going I don’t mind. Do you know the 
only thing I dread, Rosemary? It’s coming to 
the place where I have to sit down and say, 
‘Well, there’s nothing left to try. I give up.’ 
Anything but that!” 

“But it’ll never come to that,” Rosemary as¬ 
sured her, speaking more confidently than she 
felt. “There’ll always be something to try. 
Wait and see.” 

“I’m waiting. And I warn you right now, 
I’m going to try everything, no matter how 
hopeless it looks. Whatever happens, I will 
not give up.” 


CHAPTER XIII 

SOMETHING ABOUT KUMARI 

“That Kumari? No’m, Miss Rosemary, she 
didn’t have no room like reg’lar folks. She 
didn’t do nuthin’ like reg’lar folks, nohow. 
Not like white folks nor black ones, neither. 
She was funny, that Kumari, awful funny, and 
many’s the time I done said so to Miss Lucia.” 

Dorcas’s hands continued their busy clatter 
of the breakfast dishes, while the two girls in 
the sunny kitchen window patiently awaited 
the information for which they had asked. 
They had already discovered that Dorcas en¬ 
joyed talking, and that the simplest thing was 
to allow her to run on, picking out the im¬ 
portant points and overlooking the rest. 

“Miss Lucia told us that Kumari spent most 
of her time in the Princess’s room, when 
classes were over,” Rosemary observed. 

“Yes’m, Miss Rosemary, that’s right. You- 

135 


136 THE RANEES RUBY 

all seen that room, ain’t you? It’s just like 
they fixed it for the Princess. Miss Lucia 
wouldn’t never have nuthin’ changed since she 
done went off and left it like that.” 

“Why was that, Dorcas?” Valerie asked. 
“I’ve been wondering. Why didn’t the Prin¬ 
cess take her furnishings with her? Were 
they left as a gift to the school?” 

“No’m, I should say not. None of our 
young ladies would have no use for them 
heathen fixin’s, purty as they is. I’ll tell you 
why they was left, Miss Val’rie.” Dorcas’s 
soft voice deepened to anger. “That colored 
lawyer-man what come after the Princess and 
made all the fuss, he ’lowed that them curtains 
and things wa’n’t fit to touch nohow. He 
said they’d been ruined by bein’ in a house 
with — with — well, it’s his sayin’, and I’m 
. ashamed to take the words in mouth. But he 
done said, Miss Val’rie, that them things was 
pol — pol — yes’m, polluted , from bein’ in a 
house of thieves, and they wa’n’t nohow fit for 
the Princess to use no more.” 

“Dorcas!” Valerie was inexpressibly 
shocked. “He didn’t say that to Miss Lucia?” 

“Yes’m, he done so. Right before them 




SOMETHING ABOUT KUMARI 137 

there detectives he brung down here, too. Oh, 
you-all don’t know how mighty mean that 
man was, Miss Val’rie. The way he talked to 
Miss Lucia would make your blood boil, it sure 
would. And her such a lady, poor lamb, she 
wouldn’t sass him back. Even after it was 
all over, and he’d took the Princess and gone, 
she never said a ugly word. ‘We’ll leave the 
room as it is, Dorcas,’ she says, and turned 
the key in the lock with her own hands. 
‘You’ll find the key in my little brass box,’ she 
says. ‘Go in and dust when you think it’s 
needed, without astin’ me. The matter is 
closed,’ she says, and swep’ down the stairs 
with her head up, and goes in her room and 
shuts the door. From that day to this she’s 
never mentioned it to me. Oh, she’s proud, 
Miss Lucia is, like all the Hollingsworths. 
Yes’m.” 

Valerie and Rosemary exchanged sympa¬ 
thetic glances. The picture of little Miss 
Lucia, gallantly playing the lady in the face 
of humiliation, was a moving one, and it 
strengthened their resolve to bring about her 
vindication if it lay within their power. 

“Now about Kumari, Dorcas.” Rosemary 


138 THE RANEES RUBY 

practically swung back to the present issue. 
“You say she didn’t have a room of her own? 
Where did she sleep, then?” 

“ ’Deed and I don’t b’lieve that woman did 
sleep, Miss Rosemary. She done have a mat 
in the corner of the Princess’s room, and I 
reckon she dozed off there. But they was al¬ 
ways a light burnin’, and I reckon she was up 
and down a good part of the night. You 
wouldn’t believe how that child was babied, 
Miss Rosemary! Hot nights Kumari would 
set fannin’ her, and she was always a-fetchin’ 
drinks or tellin’ stories or even a-singin’ lulla¬ 
bies. You’d ’a’ thought the Princess was ten 
days old ’stead o’ ten years. Yes’m.” 

“The Princess doesn’t seem to have been 
very considerate,” Valerie remarked. 

“Well, ’twa’n’t her fault so much, Miss Val- 
’rie. I blames that Kumari more’n anybody. 
Course the Princess was plenty spoiled when 
she got here, but Miss Lucia could ’a’ straight¬ 
ened her out, like she’s done to plenty that 
ain’t had the right raisin’. It was Kumari 
made all the trouble, keepin’ the young’un 
stirred up all the time. Ef’n she’d been left 
behind, the little Princess would ’a’ got over 


SOMETHING ABOUT KUMARI 139 

her baby ways and been better off for it. That 
Kumari was always a-puttin’ in her oar when 
the other young ladies tried to be friendly, 
tellin’ the Princess they was makin’ fun of her 
and all such like. Oh, I seed a lot, Miss Rose¬ 
mary. Miss Lucia’s death on tattlin’, so 
’twa’n’t no use goin’ to her about it. But that 
Kumari was jealous as all git-out, and she 
didn’t aim to have her Princess settlin’ down 
comfortable-like here. No sir, not ef’n she 
could help it. And she could.” 

“Well, that’s very interesting,” Rosemary 
remarked. It was quite evident that Dorcas 
was strongly prejudiced against Kumari; 
whether with or without reason Rosemary had 
no means of knowing. There were more im¬ 
portant points to be settled now. 

“Kumari didn’t have any room of her own, 
then? Just a corner of the Princess’s to take 
cat naps in?” 

“Oh, she had a place to keep her things, Miss 
Rosemary. And I reckon she caught up on 
sleep whilst the Princess was at class in the 
daytimes. Miss Lucia wouldn’t let Kumari 
follow her into the classrooms, though she 
raged and sulked about it. Yes’m, she had 


140 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

plenty chance to sleep. Wa’n’t nuthin’ else 
to do; shut up by herself down there in the old 
spring house all day.” 

“The old spring house, Dorcas? I don’t 
think we’ve heard about that.” 

“Shucks, Miss Rosemary, you-all knows the 
old spring house. There ’tis, right out the 
window behind you.” 

Turning, the girls followed the pointing 
finger to the end of the kitchen garden. A 
row of outbuildings stood there; the great dis¬ 
used stable with its carriage house, a capacious 
woodshed and a ruined brick bake-oven. The 
spring house was in a far corner, separated 
from the others. It was so low that the heavy 
timbered roof seemed at places to rest almost 
upon the ground instead of the squat stone 
walls. 

“I never noticed it before,” said Rosemary. 
“Do you mean to tell us Kumari lived out 
there? Didn’t she freeze in the winter?” 

“Laws, Miss Rosemary, we don’t have no 
freezin’ winters down here! ’Sides, it’s al¬ 
ways warm in the spring house, on account’n 
the water keeps the air het up. But it ain’t no 
place for a body to live, and that’s a fack. 


SOMETHING ABOUT KUMARI 141 

That Kumari, she done picked it out herself, 
and nuthin’ Miss Lucia could say done move 
her. I told you she was funny, Miss Rose¬ 
mary. 5 ? 

“Is it a hot spring, Dorcas? Like the one 
at the Sanitarium? 55 

“Yes’m, Miss Val’rie. Back in Recon¬ 
struction days our spring was powerful use¬ 
ful, I’ve heerd Mammy say. She say they 
wa’n’t no bathrooms in the Hall then, and the 
young ladies done took they baths in the spring 
house. Yes’m. She say it was a reg’lar Sat- 
5 dy-night exercise, and Miss Araminta — that 
was Miss Lucia’s aunt what run the school in 
them days — she was mighty partic’lar. 
Wa’n’t no young lady ’scused from bathin’ on 
a Sat’dy night less’n she brung a letter from 
her ma sayin’ as how she was delicate. No’m. 
Wasn’t no gittin’ out of it. Awful partic’lar, 
Miss Araminta was.” 

“Positively inhuman, I’d call her,” Valerie 
agreed gravely. “I’m glad she had a little 
mercy on the delicate young ladies, though. 
Rosemary, what are we waiting around for? 
Surely the next step’s plain enough.” 

“Explore the spring house, you mean? Of 


142 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

course! Can we go in, Dorcas? Is it 
locked?” 

“Yes’m, Miss Rosemary. They’s some 
mighty mischeevious boys in this neighborhood, 
and we keeps all them old sheds locked up. 
Here’s the key.” She produced it from the 
kitchen table drawer. “Sho, no, Miss Lucia 
won’t mind. Didn’t she tell me you young 
ladies was to be just like you was at home?” 
Her glance held Rosemary’s for a moment as 
she offered her the key. ’Scuse me, Miss Rose¬ 
mary, but is you-all still stickin’ to what we 
was talkin’ about? ’Tain’t none of my busi¬ 
ness, but me and Jefferson is powerful int’- 
rested. Ef’n we-all can help — ” 

“Thanks, Dorcas, we won’t forget to call on 
you. Yes, we’re sticking to it. We haven’t 
found out anything yet, but we’re not going 
to give up. All right, Valerie, I’m coming!” 

With a parting smile to the faithful negress 
she sped after her friend. 


CHAPTER XIV 

THE OLD SPRING HOUSE 

The stone doorway was so low that the two 
girls had to stoop; there were two steps down 
to the floor, but even then the ceiling almost 
brushed their heads. 

A gust of warm air greeted them as they 
entered, bearing the heavy smell of sulphur 
which they had learned to associate with most 
of the springs of the region. Sunshine filtered 
in through two small barred windows set under 
the roof. There was no glass in these win¬ 
dows, and under each of them lay a drift of 
withered leaves from many autumns. It 
seemed unlikely that the place had been used, 
or even entered, since the long-ago days when 
the mysterious Kumari had chosen it for her 
home. 

“She must have been crazy, to want to live 
here!” Rosemary exclaimed, stumbling across 

143 


144 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

the stone floor. “Oh, Valerie, be careful, 
there’s a big crack in the floor.” 

The little house was roughly square, about 
eight feet each way, they guessed it. The 
walls were the same hand-dressed stone they 
had seen outside; the floor was a natural out¬ 
cropping of rock smoothed down a little. It 
felt warm under the feet; a hint of the subter¬ 
ranean stream which flowed beneath. 

Running through the exact middle of the 
room was a deep crack, beginning no wider 
than a pencil at one wall, but rapidly broaden¬ 
ing into a triangle. This larger end made an 
adequate bathtub, equipped by Mother Nature 
with an endless supply of running hot water. 
The little stream flowed away under a natural 
stone arch at the big end of the “bathtub”, 
vanishing into darkness. The current here in 
the spring house was gentle, but from the arch 
beyond came a constant murmur, as though 
the waters hurried once they passed out of 
human sight. 

“What a weird place!” Valerie exclaimed. 
“Can you imagine any one choosing it to live 
in? Look, Rosemary. This must have been 
Kumari’s bed.” 



“Oh, Valerie, be careful, there’s a big crack in the floor!” 













































THE OLD SPRING HOUSE 147 

In a corner near the small end of the crack 
was a narrow wicker cot, with head raised like 
a chaise longue . There were neither cushions 
nor coverings, but one leg was broken, so that 
it wobbled dangerously as the two girls, disre¬ 
garding a cloud of dust, perched themselves 
upon it. 

On the floor beside the bed was a cheap co- 
coanut-fibre mat. A wooden bracket fixed in 
the wall over the bed held an empty kerosene 
lamp, its smoke-blackened chimney broken. 
There was no other furnishing of any descrip¬ 
tion. 

It was all too plain that this present quest 
must end before ever it began. There was no 
incense burner here; no rug to turn back, no 
pillows to remove. The bare little room 
offered no place of concealment for secrets. 
Stone walls and floor, a rickety bed, an end¬ 
lessly-flowing stream of not-too-fragrant hot 
water — this was the spring house, and noth¬ 
ing more. 

Rosemary glanced sympathetically at Val¬ 
erie’s downcast face, and began at once to 
make conversation. 

“Kumari seems to have taken her belong- 


148 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

ings, all right. I suppose, not being in the 
house, they escaped Miss Lucia’s evil influence. 
I wish I could see Mr. Bhagwan Das just 
once. I’d like to give him a piece of my mind 
for saying such a ridiculous, cruel thing to 
her!” 

“I’d like to slap his face for him!” Valerie 
answered, so viciously that Rosemary laughed. 

“And of course that would please Miss 
Lucia ’most to death. To have a young lady 
who’s taking her as a model go around slap¬ 
ping strange gentlemen’s faces — she’d just 
love that. Showing what a wonderful ex¬ 
ample she turned out to be.” 

Valerie laughed, too, a little unwillingly. 
“Can you imagine Miss Lucia doing such a 
thing? But goodness knows this Bhagwan 
Das person needed slapping, if any one ever 
did. Oh, Rosemary, darling, I’m just in 
despair! This place is no help to us. There 
isn’t a clue in sight, and no place to look for 
one. What in heaven’s name do we do next?” 

Rosemary shook her head. “I’m sunk, too. 
I did hope we could find something here, but 
— listen, some one’s coming.” 

“It’s me, Miss Rosemary.” Dorcas stood 



THE OLD SPRING HOUSE 149 

in the open door. “They’s a note just come 
for Miss Val’rie. The boy said wasn’t no 
answer needed, Miss.” 

“Thanks, Dorcas. Oh, it’s Father’s writ¬ 
ing.” Rosemary noted that her hand trembled 
as she opened it, but in a minute she smiled. 
“Gracious, I was afraid for a second it was 
bad news, but it’s good! I told you Dr. Bow¬ 
man said he could have visitors, Rosemary? 
He asks me to bring you over and have lunch¬ 
eon with him. The Doctor never allowed that 
before; it must mean that Father’s a lot 
stronger. Isn’t that wonderful? You’ll come, 
won’t you?” 

“Love to.” Rosemary rose. “I’ll have to 
change my dress; this one is a perfect smear of 
dust. Dorcas, you ought to know. Why in 
the world did Kumari choose a place like this 
to live in?” 

“Well, I tell you, Miss Rosemary.” Dorcas 
settled herself comfortably against the door¬ 
frame. “That Kumari was a awful funny 
woman. She talked purty free to me, bein’ 
more her own color like, though she wa’n’t a 
lady I’d ever feel like makin’ no intimate 
friends with. No maam. She had too many 


150 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

queer heathen ways. No better’n a voodoo 
woman, she wa’n’t, ef’n you’s astin’ me.” 

“What’s a voodoo woman?” Valerie be¬ 
gan, but Rosemary hushed her. Dorcas, un¬ 
checked, would wander on indefinitely and 
Rosemary was genuinely interested in getting 
an answer to the present question. “But what 
did she want to live here for, Dorcas?” she in¬ 
sisted patiently. 

“Well, now, Miss Rosemary, this is what she 
done told me her own self. She say in her 
village off there where she come from they’s 
a spring like this’n, and it’s a holy place. 
Seem like they’s a temple built over the spring 
like this. Some sort of heathen idol in it, what 
they believe in. Yes’m. Kumari say the 
water is hot, just like this, and has the same 
funny smell. She say folks that’s sick come 
bathe in the holy spring and get well, and 
dyin’ people gets carried there to have they 
feet stuck in it, so they can walk straight into 
heaven. Such wicked foolishment she talk I 
never hear in all my born days, but that’s what 
Kumari say.” 

“Why, how odd!” Valerie exclaimed inter¬ 
estedly. “I suppose there are hot sulphur 


THE OLD SPRING HOUSE 151 

springs in the Indian hills — why not? Poor 
Kumari, she must have been terribly homesick, 
and I guess it comforted her to be near some¬ 
thing that seemed familiar.” 

“You-all don’t need to waste no poorin’ on 
her Miss Val’rie,” Dorcas answered darkly. 
“She was a voodoo woman, now I’m tellin’ 
you. Many’s the time I see her settin’ here, 
cross-legged on the rock, makin’ voodoo charms 
and mumblin’ over ’em. I tell you she was 
funny.” 

“What kind of charms, Dorcas?” Valerie 
asked. 

“All kinds, Miss. She’d make little boats 
outta tree bark, and load ’em up with the funni¬ 
est things. Flowers wove into kinda mats, 
and cherries off the tree, or mebbe a young 
carrot or a green onion. She was always 
a-huntin’ around in the yard for things to make 
charms of, and then she’d set here weavin’ ’em 
and a-fixin’ ’em up, and all for nuthin’ when 
she got ’em done. Jes’ thro wed ’em in the 
water, she done, and started out lookin’ for 
somethin’ to make more. I tell you that 
Kumari, she was funny!” 

“She must have been,” Rosemary ended the 


152 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

conversation with a warning glance at Valerie. 
“We’d better get along and get dressed, Val¬ 
erie. I want to make a good impression on 
your father. Will you lock up here, Dorcas? 
And thanks for calling us.” 

“You know what I think?” Valerie asked 
solemnly, as they hurried up the path. “I 
think maybe Kumari was funny!” 

“Seems to me I heard some rumors to that 
effect.” Rosemary chuckled. “You just 
have to tear yourself away when Dorcas gets 
on that subject — she’d talk about Kumari all 
day.” 

“Yes, and that proves that Kumari was — 
well, something out of the ordinary. That 
she should have made such a tremendous im¬ 
pression on Dorcas.” 

“Oh, she was a mysterious creature, there’s 
no doubt about that.” 

“Entirely too mysterious! Have you no¬ 
ticed, Rosemary, that every time we start out 
to learn something about the Ruby we come 
smack up against Kumari? And the more we 
learn about her, the less we know. I’m be¬ 
ginning to wonder — ” 

She broke off abruptly and walked a few 


THE OLD SPRING HOUSE 153 

steps in silence, her eyes frowningly on the 
path before her. 

“Yes? You’re beginning to wonder what?” 
Rosemary prompted. 

“Well, whether we couldn’t investigate 
Kumari herself, for a change? Aside from 
Dorcas’s chatter, we know almost nothing 
about her. What sort of person was she, any¬ 
way? She seemed to have a great deal of in¬ 
fluence over the Princess — naturally she 
would have, being her only friend from home 
and the only person who spoke her language. 
You remember Miss Lucia was puzzled be¬ 
cause Roshanara was so different in the class¬ 
room from what she was outside of it? Well, 
as nearly as I can make out, Kumari wasn’t 
with her in school hours, but she was with her 
at all other times. Doesn’t that suggest some¬ 
thing to you?” 

“You mean that it was Kumari who insisted 
that the Princess assert her royal dignity the 
way she did? I keep forgetting what a little 
thing she was — only ten. Why, yes, I sup¬ 
pose that is possible. Especially if we can be¬ 
lieve Dorcas, that Kumari prejudiced her 
against the people here, and told her they were 



154 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

making fun of her. I’m not certain we can 
believe that, though, Valerie. Dorcas is prej¬ 
udiced herself, against Kumari, and she’d be 
likely to exaggerate anything like that.” 

“To exaggerate it, yes, but she wouldn’t 
make it up out of whole cloth, would she? 
There must have been some truth in it. Es¬ 
pecially when you remember what Miss Lucia 
told us of the way the child acted. It sounds 
like a perfectly good explanation to me.” 

“I believe you’re right, Valerie,” Rosemary 
answered slowly. “And if you are — yes, I 
see what you mean. If Kumari had such a 
strong influence over the Princess, it’s impor¬ 
tant to know as much about her as we can find 
out. I wonder how — ” 

“Dr. Marcus, of course,” Valerie replied 
decisively. “At the very first chance — oh, 
good heavens, Rosemary, do you know it’s 
after twelve o’clock this minute?” 

“And I’ve been trying to hurry you for the 
last half-hour.” Rosemary grinned. “Put 
away the Ruby problem for now, honey. The 
important question before the house now is, 
what shall I wear to do you credit when I meet 
your father?” 


CHAPTER XV 
THE SACRED POOL OF HAMIR 

“Yes, she was a strange woman.” 

Dr. Marcus relaxed comfortably in the old 
hickory rocking-chair, his mild blue eyes fixed 
on the far horizon. 

The girls had had what Valerie described 
as a bit of luck this afternoon. After their 
pleasant luncheon with Mr. Porter, who had 
shown himself genuinely pleased with his 
daughter’s new friend, the nurses had dismissed 
them earlier than usual. They had gone 
around to the children’s wing to see Timmy, 
but found him busy practising for the water 
carnival to be given shortly by the small pa¬ 
tients. Rosemary and Valerie had gone home 
then, to find that Miss Lucia had not yet come 
downstairs from her afternoon nap, and Dr. 
Marcus was consequently alone on the ver- 

155 


156 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

anda. Yalerie had hastened to make the most 
of her opportunity. 

“I didn’t know Kumari well, of course,” 
Dr. Marcus went on. “I doubt whether it 
would be possible for any Occidental to know 
her well. She was a product of the East; that 
mysterious, brooding East which molds her 
children in strange ways. Kumari had at¬ 
tended the Ranee, Roshanara’s mother, and 
she was fiercely loyal to the child. I accom¬ 
panied the two of them on their journey here, 
you know, but I am sorry to say I never felt 
that I had completely won Kumari’s confi¬ 
dence.” 

“She wasn’t one of your mission flock, was 
she, Dr. Marcus?” Rosemary asked. 

“No, indeed, far from it! Kumari was a 
devout follower of Parvati, the national god¬ 
dess. Her native village houses one of the 
most famous of the Parvati shrines, the Sacred 
Pool of Hamir, and the old faith was bred in 
her bones.” 

“That must have been what she told Dorcas 
about,” Valerie observed. “Dorcas told us 
Kumari said there was a spring in her native 
village very like the one down in the old spring 


SACRED POOL OF HAMIR 157 

house. She chose the spring house for her 
room because it reminded her of the Sacred 
Pool at home.” 

“Indeed? I hadn’t heard that. I knew 
our old spring house well as a boy, of course, 
although it has been years since I’ve visited it. 
Yes, now that I think of it, it is very like 
Hamir. The same heated waters and sul¬ 
phurous vapors — I can see that it must have 
comforted Kumari to find it in a strange land.” 

“Is the Sacred Pool in Patipur?” Rose¬ 
mary asked. 

“Yes, but not in the capital city. It is in a 
little hill village, also called Hamir, though 
the name really belongs to the Pool. You 
recognize the name, perhaps? No? Hamir 
was that Rajput warrior who rebelled against 
the yoke of the Muslim conquerors and re¬ 
gained a large part of Rajputana for his 
people, including the important city of Chitor. 
The goddess Parvati was so pleased with his 
deed, legend tells us, that she caused the sacred 
waters to gush from the rock, so that the brave 

Rajputs might bathe their wounds and be 

/ 

healed.” 

“Chitor — I’ve heard of that!” Rosemary 


158 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

exclaimed. “Don’t you remember, Valerie? 
When Miss Lucia was telling us about the 
Ruby? The first Roshanara was Ranee of 
Chitor. When she found that her city could 
not defend itself any longer, she set fire to her 
palace and threw herself into the flames.” 

“Oh, yes, and a slave saved her baby and the 
Ruby. Of course I remember. Is Patipur 
the same as Rajputana, Dr. Marcus?” 

“Rajputana is a geographical name, my 
dear, and is made up of a number of native 
states, of which Patipur is one. Each native 
state has its own government, but the people 
are all Rajputs. The most interesting race in 
India, I always think. They claim to be the 
purest living specimens of the ancient Aryan 
line, the white race which settled India twenty 
or thirty centuries ago. They belong to the 
Warrior caste, and even to-day make better 
soldiers than business men. They are won¬ 
derful horsemen, expert with weapons, brave 
to the point of foolhardiness, high-souled, and 
intensely proud. The old name for their 
country was Rajasthan, ‘Land of Kings’, and 
it was their boast that every man among them 
was as good as any king.” 


SACRED POOL OF HAMIR 159 

“Oh, I like them!” Valerie exclaimed. 
“And they were the ones who chased the Mus¬ 
lims out of their country?” 

“Not once but many times, my dear. No 
conqueror ever succeeded in subduing the 
Rajputs completely, although all of them tried 
it. You must realize, my dear girls,” he went 
on earnestly, that the history of India is not 
the short, clear record of events that our own 
country shows. It is a very ancient land of 
great richness, and for two thousand years it 
has been fought over by different races. Many 
of the early invaders were content to raid it, 
help themselves to treasure of jewels, silks, 
and spices, and go home again. Others re¬ 
mained to rule for a time, only to give way in 
their turn to more powerful newcomers, so it 
has been down the ages.” 

“Didn’t Alexander the Great have a try at 
it?” Rosemary asked. “I have some sort of 
dim recollection out of Greek history.” 

“Yes, indeed, although he was content to 
load his men with loot and scurry home again. 
Later Greeks, however, did set up a kingdom 
in a small portion where they ruled for a short 
time. The Persians followed them, and also 


160 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

gained a temporary foothold. Then came 
great successive waves of Muslims — Tartars 
and Turks — who fought each other fiercely 
for control of a land to which neither had any 
right. Sometimes one side triumphed, some¬ 
times another; sometimes, as happened at 
Chitor, the natives turned on their oppressors 
and gained a fleeting victory. Babur’s great 
Mughal empire, which he founded early in the 
sixteenth century, probably came nearest to 
making India a united land.” 

“Oh, now you’re getting down to where I 
know something,” Rosemary said, with a smile. 
“They do teach us English history, anyway. 
The Mughal emperor Akbar astounded Queen 
Elizabeth by sending her the most magnificent 
gifts — I think that’s the first place India is 
mentioned in English history books.” 

“Probably. It wasn’t so long after that 
the history of India became a part of the his¬ 
tory of England.” 

“The first place I ever saw India mentioned 
was in American history,” Valerie observed. 
“If Columbus and the rest of them hadn’t been 
looking for a way to India, they wouldn’t have 
come near America. I suppose they were 


SACRED POOL OF HAMIR 161 

quite disappointed when they found America 
in the way.” 

“Well, they were,” Rosemary answered. 
“We had quite a discussion about that in class 
last year. When I first began American his¬ 
tory, in the early grades, I thought it was 
queer, the way those old explorers acted. 
You’d think, when they found a brand-new 
country, they’d be wild to see what it was like. 
But did they? No, they did their best to sail 
around it. It was just a nuisance, a lot of 
land sticking up there in their way, when they 
were in a hurry to get to India. Magellan, 
for instance — he was more than disappointed, 
he was perfectly furious. He actually lost 
his life trying to get around our tiresome old 
country.” 

“The wealth of the Indies was a powerful 
lure,” Dr. Marcus agreed. “I am afraid, 
though, that I have led you young ladies rather 
far afield. You wanted some information 
about the woman Kumari?” 

“If you please, Dr. Marcus.” Valerie 
briskly took up the inquiry. “Dorcas was 
telling us about her to-day, and she seems to 
have been such a mysterious person. Dorcas 



162 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

calls her a Voodoo woman’, whatever that may 
be. She says that she spent much time making 
charms — little boats loaded with flowers and 
things, that she threw into the spring. Was 
she crazy, or what?” 

Dr. Marcus smiled. “Not on that evidence. 
Kumari was only performing an everyday de¬ 
votion of her sect. The flowers and — fruit, 
was it? — were votive offerings to Parvati. 
Native shrines in India are constantly heaped 
with them.” 

“But there wasn’t any shrine in the spring 
house. She just threw them into the water, 
Dorcas says.” 

“No doubt she was obliged to adapt her 
methods to her surroundings. You say that 
the offerings were placed on little boats? 
Hm.” Dr. Marcus smiled tolerantly. “I 
wonder if it is not possible that in her igno¬ 
rance Kumari conceived the waters to be but 
a continuation of the stream which flows from 
the Pool of Hamir? Perhaps she imagined 
her little boats sailing underground until they 
reached the true shrine in her home village.” 

“Oh, that sounds reasonable!” Valerie 
cried eagerly. “I mean, it sounds as if it 


SACRED POOL OF HAMIR 163 

might seem reasonable to her. The water in 
the spring here is like the water at home, she 
sees it flowing off into the earth, and she knows 
it comes up out of the earth at Hamir — oh, 
Dr. Marcus, how clever of you! I do believe 
that’s exactly what she thought.” 

“It is possible, my dear.” Dr. Marcus 
sighed. “The ignorance and superstition of 
these people are beyond belief. Is there some¬ 
thing else I can tell you, Miss Valerie?” 

“Yes, let’s see. Is Kumari with the Prin¬ 
cess yet, Dr. Marcus? Or would you know?” 

“Oh, yes, I am still in touch with Patipur 
to a limited extent. You must not think that 
I made only enemies there. The Rajah’s per¬ 
sonal physician, a highly-educated Rajput 
gentleman, has always been my friend, al¬ 
though his efforts to intercede for me proved 
futile. Knowing my interest in the little con¬ 
gregation I had gathered, he writes to me at 
irregular intervals. Kumari — yes, he did 
mention her in a letter written some years 
ago. She is no longer at the court — as I re¬ 
call it, when she accompanied the Princess 
home from America she retired at once to her 
native village. There was something — what 



164 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

was it? Wait, I have it now. Dr. Khusru 
wrote me that she had become a female Yogi, 
a holy woman. You know what that is?” 

“I’m afraid we don’t.” 

“It’s one of the many curious Indian re¬ 
ligious practices. A man, or very rarely a 
woman, desires to attain great sanctity. He 
forswears all wordly ties, and gives himself 
to a life of prayer and meditation, often ac¬ 
companied by fasting and great physical hard¬ 
ship. Such persons are highly venerated. 
Kumari, it appears, has chosen such a life. If 
I recall Dr. Khusru’s report correctly, her 
asceticism takes the form of sitting motion¬ 
less, day and night, before the Sacred Pool. 
Food is brought to her by visitors to the temple, 
and she never stirs from the chosen spot.” 

“But that’s impossible!” Valerie ex¬ 
claimed. “She’d have to get up some time!” 

“It seems incredible to you, I know, but I 
assure you that even stranger things are com¬ 
mon among these deluded people. I myself 
have seen a man stretched upon a bed of iron 
spikes, from which he has not risen for fifteen 
years.” 

“How horrible!” Valerie shuddered. 


SACRED POOL OF HAMIR 165 

“Why do you suppose Kumari chose such a 
life, Dr. Marcus? She was devoted to the 
Princess; I shouldn’t have thought she’d want 
to leave her. Is the Princess herself still liv¬ 
ing, by the way?” 

“She is living, although my old friend the 
Rajah passed away several years ago. She is 
now Ranee of Patipur, having married her 
cousin, who succeeded to the throne on her 
father’s death. In their country, as you may 
not know, the heir is never the Rajah’s son, but 
the son of his brother.” 

“How queer to think of Roshanara being 
grown-up and married,” Valerie remarked. 
“We’ve been picturing her always as a little 
girl of ten. Why, she must be over thirty 
now. What is she like, Dr. Marcus? Do you 
know?” 

“A very gracious lady, my friend writes 
me, and the real ruler of Patipur. Her hus¬ 
band, the Rajah, is an invalid as the result of 
a fall in the hunting field, and the affairs of 
state are largely in the Ranee’s hands. Yes, 
the years have a way of flying by. Her High¬ 
ness has a little daughter now, of about the 
age that she herself was when she came to my 


166 THE RANEE S RUBY 

sister. Another Roshanara — the name is 
traditional with the Royal house.’' 

“I don’t suppose she'll get a chance at an 
American education,” said Rosemary. 

“Hardly, I fear. The Rajah Rai Singh, 
after the disastrous affair of the Ruby, re¬ 
turned in large measure to the ways of his 
fathers. Lord Bir Bal became prime minis¬ 
ter, and all modern innovations were aban¬ 
doned. Rai Singh finished his reign a just 
and kindly ruler, in the old manner, but it is 
saddening to think that he might have been so 
much more, if only that catastrophe had not 
happened to embitter him.” 

“How about Roshanara?” Rosemary 
asked. “Does she follow the old ways, too?” 

“Such is my information. Her young hus¬ 
band leaned heavily upon the counsel of Bir 
Bal. Perhaps I neglected to mention that 
Bir Bal is no longer living. When he died, 
early in the new reign, the young Rajah ap¬ 
pointed his nephew, Bhagwan Das, to succeed 
him as prime minister. Her Highness has 
continued him in that post since the Rajah’s 
disability, and he has the same narrow outlook 
that his uncle had.” 


SACRED POOL OF HAMIR 167 

“It seems a shame,” Rosemary began. “Oh, 
I beg your pardon, Valerie. Were you going 
to say something?” 

“I — I’ve just thought — ” Valerie’s tone 
was so strange, so choked with sudden excite¬ 
ment that Rosemary looked at her in amaze¬ 
ment. “No, I wasn’t going to say anything,” 
she added, with strained calmness. “Go 
ahead, Rosemary.” 

“I was just wondering how Roshanara felt 
about it all,” Rosemary resumed. “Her ex¬ 
periences over here, I mean.” 

“I could not tell you,” Dr. Marcus answered. 
“She never refers to it in talking with my 
friend, and he respects the command given to 
him by the Rajah never to mention the word 
‘America’ to her. Perhaps the affair has com¬ 
pletely faded from her mind.” 

“I don’t see how it could do that.” Valerie 
had subdued her excitment now, and spoke 
casually. “I wish we could talk to her. I’d 
like to ask her a lot of things.” 

Dr. Marcus smiled. “I’m afraid we can 
hardly invade the royal palace of Patipur and 
cross-question its queen, my dear. No,” he 
sighed, and his blue eyes looked dim and tired, 


168 THE RANEES RUBY 

“we may speculate, and guess, but I am very 
much afraid that the mystery of the Ruby must 
remain a mystery to the end.” 

Rather to Rosemary’s surprise, Valerie did 
not dispute this conclusion. Instead she rose, 
with a glance at her wrist watch. 

“Well, thank you for answering all our 
questions so patiently, Dr. Marcus. I’ve 
learned a lot I never knew before. Are you 
coming, Rosemary? We promised ourselves 
to shampoo each other’s hair this afternoon, 
remember? The sun will be too low to dry it 
if we don’t hurry.” 


CHAPTER XVI 

FACTS AND GUESSES 

The grounds of Hollingsworth Hall were 
heavily shaded, but on the south side there 
was a patch of open lawn. The grass grew 
thick and long here, and the two girls sat upon 
the ground, busy with combs and brushes. 
Brown hair and gold shimmered in sun and 
breeze, taking on fresh lustre under vigorous 
brush strokes. 

Valerie shook back her mop of dark curls 
with a sigh of relief. 

“The last snarl, thank heaven.” She shot 
a glance towards the house, making sure that 
there was no chance of being overheard. “And 
now for another snarl. Look here, Rose¬ 
mary.” 

From her pocket she took her translation of 
the note to Kumari, and laid it on the ground. 
“I’m beginning to get some light on this at 


169 


170 THE RANEES RUBY 

last. Oh, don’t look so startled, darling — I 
don’t mean I’ve solved the mystery, or any¬ 
where near it. But some of the things Dr. 
Marcus told us have finally begun to percolate 
into my brain and — well, I won’t say they 
make sense yet, but I’ve got some ideas I’m 
anxious to talk over with you.” 

“I’m waiting,” Rosemary answered eagerly. 
“You can’t begin too soon for me.” 

“If you don’t mind, I’ll begin by reading 
this thing out loud. Listen hard! 

“ ‘Greetings, O Kumari. Thus saith our 
Lord Bir Bal, through his servant Bhagwan 
Das. The power of the Meddling One wax- 
eth great beyond endurance. Therefore saith 
our Lord, the Thing-Which-Is-To-Be-Done, 
let it be done speedily, and in this manner — 

“ 4 — that She-Who-Is-Without-Charm be 
acclaimed wholly vile, and the might of the 
Meddling One cast down. Great shall be the 
triumph of Parvati thereby, and great shall be 
her reward to those who serve her.’ ” 

“It came over me like a flash this afternoon,” 
Valerie went on rapidly. “When Dr. Marcus 
was telling us about the effect that the loss of 
the Ruby had in Patipur — you know, how 


FACTS AND GUESSES 171 

the Rajah turned away from modern ideas and 
went back to the old ways? And Bir Bal and 
afterward his nephew Bhagwan Das became 
important people at the court? Something 
just seemed to click in my brain then. Don’t 
you see it, Rosemary? Parvati did triumph! 
And ‘great was the reward’ of those who served 
her, Bir Bal and his nephew.” 

“But Parvati isn’t real 3 Valerie,” Rosemary 
protested. “You don’t mean to tell me that 
you believe in a heathen goddess?” 

“Of course not, goose! But what she stands 
for is real — the old religion, the old ways of 
living. They did triumph, which was what 
Bir Bal wanted.” 

“Oh! Yes, I see that. But — what does 
it all lead to, Valerie? Do you really know 
something, or are you just making wild 
guesses?” 

“I don’t know myself,” Valerie confessed, 
laughing excitedly. “You’ll have to help, 
Rosemary. But I believe — oh, I do believe 
that we’re beginning to get somewhere at last.” 

“Well, take it easy,” Rosemary advised her. 
“You get so excited, Valerie; I can’t keep up 
with you.” 




172 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

“Sorry. I’ll try to get my thoughts in 
order, though I’m a little dizzy myself. Let’s 
see if I can sort out facts from guesses. First 
thing: Bir Bal hated American ways, and was 
anxious to have the Rajah give them up. 
That isn’t a guess, is it?” 

“Of course not. Dr. Marcus told us so 
himself.” 

“All right. Second thing: Bhagwan Das 
and Kumari took their orders from Bir Bal. 
The letter proves that.” 

“Right,” Rosemary agreed. 

“Well, those are two facts.” Valerie ticked 
them off on her fingers. “Here’s a third. 
Lord Bir Bal didn’t like Dr. Marcus, and was 
jealous of his influence with the Rajah. That 
makes three. And it seems to be about all the 
positive facts we’re sure of, so I’ll start on the 
guesses.” She drew a long breath. “Guess 
number one: Bir Bal didn’t approve of send¬ 
ing Roshanara to Miss Lucia. Is that reason¬ 
able?” 

“I’d say so. It’s practically a corollary — 
you know, like those we have in geometry. 
You prove one fact, and another follows from 
it.” 


FACTS AND GUESSES 173 

“Please don’t drag in geometry! This is 
hard enough, without any extras. But I think 
we can take it that Bir Bal didn’t like the 
American scheme, or anything else that Uncle 
Marcus suggested. Now here’s another guess 
that seems just as likely. If the Princess’s 
visit here ended in disaster, and if that disaster 
should prove to be the means of disgracing 
Dr. Marcus and ending his power at court — 
what did you say, Rosemary?” 

“I said — ” there was awe in Rosemary’s 
voice, “ 'the might of the Meddling One be 
cast down.’ Valerie, don’t you see it? Dr. 
Marcus was the Meddling One, whose 'power 
waxeth great beyond endurance’ to Bir Bal! 
Why, that’s what it meant — it can’t have been 
anything else! Wait, that isn’t all!” Rose¬ 
mary seized the scrap of paper. “ 'She-Who- 
Is-Without-Charm’ — Dr. Marcus told us 
that meant a spinster. Oh, but we’ve been 
stupid , Valerie! It’s Miss Lucia, of course. 
'That she be acclaimed wholly vile’ — she was, 
poor darling. Even furnishings which were 
in her house were declared polluted. And — ” 

“Rosemary, you’re wonderful!” Valerie 
interrupted her with an ecstatic hug. “I told 


174 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

you we were getting somewhere, didn’t I? 
And you’ve moved us on a mile! I had just a 
suspicion, so wild that I was trying to prop it 
up with facts and guesses before I dared tell 
you. But this — those names — why, it 
proves the whole thing! Oh, Rosemary, isn’t 
it wonderful to know, at last?” 

Rosemary looked dazed. “But to know 
what? I’m sorry, Valerie, but you’re away 
ahead of me, as usual.” 

“No, I’m not. You just haven’t stopped 
to think. Add it all up, darling, what we 
know and what we guess. ‘The-Thing-Which- 
Is-To-Be-Done’ — there’s nothing else it can 
mean.” 

“The Thing — wait, Valerie, I’m getting it 
now. Bir Bal gave his orders to Bhagwan 
Das, and he passed them on to Kumari. It 
was — why, it was all a plot, then! A plot 
to ruin Dr. Marcus with the Rajah, and give 
Bir Bal his chance at power. The Ruby — 
it was never stolen or lost at all. Kumari 
took it herself, as Bir Bal told her to do. Oh, 
Valerie, I can’t believe it! It seems so cow¬ 
ardly, so cruel!” 

“Maybe it didn’t seem that way to them,” 




FACTS AND GUESSES 175 

Valerie said. “Perhaps they really felt that 
‘the power of the Meddling One’ was a bad 
thing for their country. But let’s not waste 
our time making up excuses for them. Think 
what it means, Rosemary! It explains every¬ 
thing. The letter — ‘The-Thing-Which-Is- 
To-Be-Done’— that would be stealing the 
Ruby, of course. Kumari was in the room 
with the Princess; it would be perfectly sim¬ 
ple for her to cut the chain and take the Ruby 
while she slept. Unless the Princess was in 
the plot, too?” 

“I don’t think so.” Rosemary shook her 
head. “That would be taking a foolish risk 
for nothing. A girl of ten would be too likely 
to break down when they questioned her. 
And she had to be questioned, of course, to 
make the robbery look real.” 

“Yes, I think you’re right. The detectives 
Bhagwan Das sent — they’d be in the dark, 
too, and perfectly honest in their search. He 
was safe in having them, because he knew they 
wouldn’t find out anything. No one knew 
anything but Kumari, and no amount of ques¬ 
tioning would have any effect on her/ 3 

Rosemary sighed exhaustedly. “Good 


176 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

work, Valerie! Those detectives could learn 
a lot from you, if they only knew it.” 

“I think it’s a pretty good job myself,” 
Valerie answered. “Don’t give me all the 
credit, though, you’ve done just as much. 
Aren’t you excited, darling? I can hardly 
take it in, even yet. Just think — Miss Lucia 
to be cleared, after all these years, of that dark 
cloud of suspicion! And Dr. Marcus! It 
looked so hopeless at the start, and we’ve done 
it, our own two selves. I guess we can be 
pretty proud, don’t you? It all fits together 
now, like a perfect jigsaw puzzle, with every 
piece in place. Oh, Rosemary, aren’t you 
thrilledV* 

“Ye-es.” Rosemary spoke slowly, reluc¬ 
tantly. “But every piece isn’t in place yet, 
Valerie. The Ruby is missing still.” 

“Well, what of it?” Valerie stared. “No 
wonder we couldn’t find it; Kumari took it. 
But surely that isn’t important. What we 
wanted was to clear Miss Lucia, and our dis¬ 
covery certainly does that.” 

“Are you sure? Oh, Valerie, I don’t want 
to do this — I just hate it! But honey, stop 
and think. Our discovery is only guesswork, 
after all. We can’t prove that the letter 



FACTS AND GUESSES 177 

means what we think it does. Bir Bal is dead. 
If Bhagwan Das and Kumari chose to deny 
it, to say that it meant something entirely dif¬ 
ferent— what could we say? To be of any 
real use to Miss Lucia and Dr. Marcus, it’s 
the Princess who would have to be convinced, 
isn’t it ? I thought that was our idea all along 
— to prove to the Rajah, or his daughter, now 
that he’s dead — that Miss Lucia and Dr. 
Marcus were innocent. Nothing else would 
make up for all that they’ve suffered.” 

“Of course that was the idea — we don’t 
have to prove their innocence to their friends 
here who believe in them. It would have to 
be some proof that the whole world would ac¬ 
cept, and that includes the Rajah and Rosh- 
anara. But the letter does prove it, Rose¬ 
mary, now that we know what it means.” 

“If it means what we think it does.” Rose¬ 
mary’s gentle voice sounded sorry, but very 
firm. “Just thinking isn’t proof, Valerie.” 

“Oh, you’re right, of course.” Valerie 
slumped disconsolately on the grass. “But 
good heavens, what are we going to do, then? 
This is positively sickening! It was bad 
enough when we didn’t know what had hap¬ 
pened. But now, to know perfectly well and 


178 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

not be able to do a thing about it — ! What 
would be proof, anyhow, if the letter isn’t?” 

Rosemary shook her head. “I can’t think 
of anything that would be, except the Ruby 
itself. And that brings us right back where 
we started.” 

Valerie groaned. “Of all the hopeless 
things — ! I wonder where the Ruby is , any¬ 
way? I suppose Kumari handed it back to 
the Princess as soon as they were safely on 
the boat?” 

“I hardly think so,” Rosemary answered. 
“After all, the Rajah was an honorable man, 
Dr. Marcus says. Surely he wouldn’t have 
excused a shabby trick that brought suffering 
to innocent people, if he knew. And his re¬ 
sentment against all Americans must have 
been sincere, to last his whole lifetime. No, 
I don’t believe they ever told him.” 

“Well, then I suppose Kumari turned it 
over to Bhagwan Das when he came. I won¬ 
der how she managed it? You remember the 
St. Louis detectives and the local police both 
searched the place before he got here. She 
must have found a pretty good hiding place 
for it. I wonder if he has it still?” 



FACTS AND GUESSES 179 

“I shouldn’t think he’d feel very comfort¬ 
able with it,” Rosemary observed. “It was 
never supposed to leave the Princess’s neck, 
remember. Seems to me Bhagwan Das would 
expect some sort of curse to overtake him for 
keeping it away from its proper place. I 
don’t know how superstitious he is, but I’m 
surprised that they even got Kumari to take 
it off.” 

“Well, we know she did take it off, whether 
she liked the idea or not.” Valerie sighed. 
“Oh, goodness, Rosemary, I feel exactly like 
a balloon that some one’s stuck a pin into. 
Just a few minutes ago I was so thrilled, so 
certain we’d done it at last, and now — why, 
we haven’t accomplished a thing!” 

“Oh, yes, we have,” Rosemary consoled her. 
“We’ve solved the mystery to our own satis¬ 
faction, anyway. We know what happened. 
Now if we can just get some proof that will 
convince other people — ” 

“And a fine chance we have of doing that!” 
Valerie said bitterly. “The only real proof 
would be the Ruby itself, — you’re right there, 
Rosemary. And that’s just the same as say¬ 
ing that we’ll never get any proof.” 


CHAPTER XVII 
VALIANT VALERIE 

Valerie slept restlessly that night, tossing and 
turning in her great carved bed. Once Rose¬ 
mary called to her through the open connect¬ 
ing door to know if she felt ill, but drifted off 
to sleep again at a reassuring answer. 

The gray light which comes before the dawn 
was glimmering outside the windows when 
Rosemary woke at a cautious sound in her 
room. Sleepily she opened her eyes, to per¬ 
ceive a dim figure fumbling at her dresser 
drawer. 

“Valerie! What in the world — ” she be¬ 
gan, but was hushed as the other girl made a 
swift rush across the room and clamped a 
hand across her mouth. 

“Sh! Don’t wake anybody, whatever you 
do!” Valerie exclaimed in an urgent whisper. 
“Will you lend me your electric torch?” 


180 


VALIANT VALERIE 181 

“Of course. It’s in the bottom drawer, not 
the top one. But — good heavens, Valerie, 
what are you doing up this time of night, and 
in a bathing suit?” 

“Oh, my goodness!” Valerie answered pet¬ 
tishly. “Why did you have to wake up? 
Turn over and go back to sleep again, there’s 
a lamb. It won’t be morning for hours yet. 
Have you seen anything of my big bathrobe?” 

“It’s in my closet, where you left it,” Rose¬ 
mary answered bewilderedly. “But Valerie, 
what’s it all about? What on earth are you 
up to?” 

“Nothing, nothing at all.” The air from 
the open windows was chill, and Valerie hur¬ 
ried to pull the terry cloth robe over her brief 
scarlet bathing suit. She found the torch and 
slipped it into the pocket of the robe; then 
turned in exasperation when Rosemary set her 
feet to the floor. “Oh, please, darling, go on 
back to bed,” she begged. 

“Not a chance,” Rosemary answered calmly. 
“I don’t know where you’re going, but I’m 
with you. Just a second, while I get my 
bathing suit and robe.” 

“But I don’t want you to come!” Valerie 


182 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

protested. “Oh, all right, then,” she surren¬ 
dered, as Rosemary showed no sign of heeding 
her. “You won’t need a bathing suit, though. 
Just put on anything.” 

“If you need one, I need one.” Rosemary’s 
tone was inflexible. “The nearest place I 
know of to swim, outside of the Sanitarium 
pool, is ten miles out in the country. They 
don’t allow any one but patients to swim at 
the Sanitarium, and ten miles is a brisk little 
walk before breakfast. But lead on, General. 
Mine not to reason why.” 

“Oh, Rosemary, I don’t know whether to 
shake you or kiss you!” Valerie exclaimed. 
“Come on, now, if you have to. And remem¬ 
ber, not a sound.” 

Silent as two shadows the barefoot girls 
flitted through the corridor and down the dark 
staircase. Rosemary turned towards the front 
door, but with a hand on her arm Valerie drew 
her toward the kitchen. Once there she made 
straight for the kitchen table drawer. 

“The spring house key?” Rosemary whis¬ 
pered. 

“Sh! Yes. Don’t let the back door slam.” 

Trees and shrubbery were ghostly in the 



“Oh, my goodness — why did you have to wake up?” 



















































































































































VALIANT VALERIE 185 

dim light. The air was incredibly cool and 
fresh, the dew-wet grass caressed their feet. 
Far away over the housetops a few tiny clouds 
were streaked with rose. Over their heads 
one brilliant star still gleamed in a sky of clear 
pale green. A sleepy bird twittered in a tree- 
top, but all else was breathlessly quiet, await¬ 
ing the daily miracle of the sunrise. 

It was dark in the spring house, and the 
sulphur-laden air seemed stuffy and unpleas¬ 
ant after the morning sweetness outside. 

“Now what?” Rosemary demanded. “No 
one can hear us talking here. Will you please 
explain what this crazy expedition is all 
about?” 

Valerie hesitated. “I didn’t mean to tell 
you until it was all over. And not then, un¬ 
less something came of it. You’re not going 
to try to stop me, Rosemary — promise you 
won’t! It’s not a bit dangerous, and even if 
it is, I’m willing to take a risk for Miss Lucia’s 
sake. I begged you not to come, but now that 
you’re here, you’re not to interfere; you must 
promise me that.” 

“I promise nothing until I know what 
it’s all about,” Rosemary answered firmly. 


186 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

“What is this crazy thing you’re bent on do¬ 
ing, Valerie? Quit stumbling around and ex¬ 
plain.” 

“Come over here.” Valerie led the way to 
the far wall, where the stream widened and 
disappeared into the rock. “Bend over, Rose¬ 
mary. Do you see how the bottom of the 
stream seems to sink where it disappears, as 
if it were running downhill? See, there’s at 
least a foot of space between the water and 
the rock where it goes under.” 

“Yes, I see that. What of it?” 

“Well,” Valerie’s pale face glowed deter¬ 
mined in the dusk, “I’m going under there. 
Now, please! The water isn’t deep; there 
isn’t any danger at all. I just want to fol¬ 
low the stream a little way, and see what’s 
down there.” 

“Valerie Porter, have you taken leave of 
your senses? I never heard of anything so 
insane. You’re not going to do it.” 

“I knew it.” Valerie srighed. “Oh, why 
couldn’t you go on sleeping? Now listen, 
Rosemary. I told you it wasn’t any use try¬ 
ing to stop me. I won’t go far, and I’ll be 
as careful as can be. But I’m going, Rose¬ 
mary; I just have to go!” 


VALIANT VALERIE 187 

“But why, Valerie?’’ Rosemary was im¬ 
pressed by the desperate earnestness in her 
friend’s voice. “I’m sorry, honey; I don’t 
mean to spoil your plans. But it’s such a 
wild, risky thing to do, and what possible good 
can come of it? What do you expect to find 
down there?” 

“Can’t you guess?” Valerie’s smile did not 
extend to her steady eyes. “What have we 
been trying to find for the last century or 
two?” 

“The Ruby?” Rosemary gasped. “But 
Valerie, do you really mean it? What makes 
you think so?” 

“Please, Rosemary! I don’t want to stand 
here talking forever. Maybe I’m right, and 
maybe I’m wrong, but I have to go and see. 
You’re as anxious to find it as I am. You 
said yourself it would be the proof we have to 
have, if we’re going to clear Miss Lucia. 
Don’t stand around and think up objections. 
Let me go and find out!” 

“All right, honey. I won’t try to stop you. 
Only — we must do everything possible to 
make sure you’re safe. Wait here a minute.” 

She darted outside, and presently returned 
with a length of strong clothesline. “Let me 


188 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

tie this around your waist,” she directed. 
“Then if you do get into deep water, or any 
place where it’s hard to get back, I can pull 
you. Oh, wait, I’ll tie the other end to the 
doorknob, it looks good and strong. How are 
you going to carry the torch?” 

“In my teeth.” Valerie cast off the bath¬ 
robe, and knotted her handkerchief about the 
small torch, which she turned on. “I’ll have 
to crawl, unless the passage gets higher, but 
I can keep my head up above the water, and 
the torch with it.” 

She spoke very matter-of-factly, and as she 
finished she stepped down into the spring. 
The warm water swirled about her knees. 

Rosemary experienced a sudden qualm. 
“Oh, Valerie, I wish you wouldn’t!” she wailed. 
“I don’t even know whether you can swim.” 

“Of course I can swim, silly! But not in 
shallow water like this. Now don’t worry, 
Rosemary. I’ll be back before you know it.” 

“I hope so. You will be careful, won’t you? 
Oh, how will I know if you can’t get back, 
and want me to help you?” 

“I’ll shake the rope. How’s that?” 

“Well, be sure you do it. And, anyway,” 



“Of course I can swim, silly!” 














































VALIANT VALERIE 191 

Rosemary brightened, “you can’t go more than 
twenty feet. The rope won’t let you.” 

“Oh, bother! I can untie it, though.” 

“You think you can. I tied those knots, 
young woman, and Houdini himself couldn’t 
get out of them.” 

“Well, maybe twenty feet will be far 
enough.” Valerie resigned herself. “If it 
isn’t, I’ll have to come back and have another 
try later. And you can bet there’ll be no 
helpful friends along that time. Here goes!” 

Rosemary handed her the torch, and she 
gripped the knotted handkerchief firmly in 
her strong young teeth. She dropped to 
hands and knees, flashing a smile at her friend. 
Rosemary bent imploringly over her. “Oh, 
promise, promise you’ll be careful!” 

Valerie nodded, and ducked her head un¬ 
der the stone arch. A flash of scarlet and 
white, and she was gone. 

Rosemary crouched on the stone floor, her 
eyes on the spot where Valerie had disap¬ 
peared. There was no sound from beyond the 
arch but the murmuring water. Outside her 
ears mechanically noted a burst of bird song 
which told her that the sun had risen. The 


192 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

light from the small barred windows was 
growing stronger; the rickety bed and broken 
lamp stood out with startling distinctness. A 
sharp creak from the closed door caught her 
attention, and she noted for the first time that 
the rope was stretched taut. Valerie had 
reached its limit of twenty feet. 

What could she be doing now? Rosemary 
had no watch, and no means of judging the 
passing of time. Seconds seemed minutes; 
minutes hours. 

Rosemary’s face paled as she waited; her 
hands clenched until the nails dug into her 
palms. Oh, why, why had she let Valerie go 
ahead with this insane project? Terrible tales 
that she had read of entombed miners rushed 
into her mind; vivid pictures of men cut off 
from return by fallen rock. Oh, where was 
Valerie? It must have been hours since she 
had gone down there into the darkness and 
the swirl of hidden waters. Brave, reckless 
little Valerie, where was she now? What 
treacherous currents, what unknown depths 
beneath the friendly earth had swallowed her 
up? Surely she should have returned by now 
— if she could return. 

Mr. Porter’s face rose before Rosemary’s 


VALIANT VALERIE 193 

eyes. Stern, agonized, accusing. Valerie was 
all he had, his most precious possession. What 
would he say? How could she excuse herself 
to him? 

Rosemary could endure her thoughts no 
longer. Anything was better than this wait¬ 
ing. Valerie had told her not to interfere, but 
she could not expect that one could bear this 
suspense and do nothing. 

She threw off her own bathrobe and stepped 
into the spring. In spite of the warmth of 
the water her teeth were chattering. None of 
Valerie’s gay courage strengthened her heart; 
she was afraid, terribly afraid, and she knew 
it. The dark hole under the stone arch was 
an open doorway to terror. Yet her friend 
had entered there, and she nerved herself to 
follow. 

She started with an uncontrollable shriek 
as something fell with a plop into the water 
beside her. The rope — she had totally for¬ 
gotten the rope. Oh, what a fool she had 
been! Why, she needn’t go there, into that 
dark and dreadful place, to find Valerie. The 
blessed rope of safety would bring her back 
— was bringing her back, even now. 

For the rope, which had been stretched so 


194 THE RANEES RUBY 

tightly that it was high above the water, had 
slackened now, so much so that it had fallen 
to the bottom of the pool. 

Rosemary took it into her trembling hands 
and gave it a tremendous pull. The result 
so startled her that she dropped it as though 
it had burned her fingers. 

“Hey, don’t do that!” It was Valerie’s 
voice, hollow and far-away, but perfectly dis¬ 
tinct, and very cross. 


CHAPTER XVIII 

THE JEWELED CAVE 

Rosemary laughed aloud, in a joyous reaction 
from all her fears. Valerie was alive, unhurt! 
Rosemary scrambled hurriedly toward the dark 
arch which a moment ago had seemed so sin¬ 
ister, and eagerly thrust her head beneath it. 

“Valerie!” she called into the darkness. 
“Are you all right? Oh, come on back, please 
— I’ve been nearly dead with worry.” 

“Silly!” The familiar little chuckle echoed 
eerily in the black tunnel. “I was coming af¬ 
ter you when you started yanking me along 
with this crazy rope. Can you hear me? 
Come on then, I’ll wait here. There’s one 
bad spot where I am, but the rest of it’s easy. 
Keep your head down.” 

“All right, here I come. Ooh, it’s dark! 
Did you lose the torch?” 

“No, it’s back there. Do hurry, Rosemary. 
I can’t wait all day.” 


195 


196 THE RANEES RUBY 

“Why not? I did.” Rosemary’s relief ex¬ 
pressed itself in a tendency to giggle violently. 
Once fully inside the arch, however, she ceased 
trying to talk, and devoted herself to travers¬ 
ing the passage as speedily as possible. 

It was pitch-black, and she could only feel 
her way. The stone bed of the stream sloped 
steeply downhill, making it hard to keep her 
balance on hands and knees. She found it 
easier to lie flat, hitching herself along with 
hands and feet in a manner neither dignified 
nor graceful. She made good progress, how¬ 
ever, and presently Valerie’s voice came to 
her, unexpectedly close. 

“Stop puffing! You sound like a switch 
engine. Here you are at last!” 

A warm hand grasped Rosemary’s shoul¬ 
der, and she laughed shakily. 

“Valerie! I never was so glad to see any¬ 
body in my whole life.” 

“If you can call this seeing!” Valerie an¬ 
swered practically, but she groped for Rose¬ 
mary’s hand and pressed it hard. “Now listen. 
I’ll go first, and you follow right behind me. 
In a minute we’ll come to a queer place — it’s a 
sort of waterfall, a baby Niagara. The floor 


THE JEWELED CAVE 197 

slants suddenly, and you have to sit down and 
slide. You know those water chutes they have 
in some pools? Well, it’s like that. Lots of 
fun, only you don’t want to come on it with¬ 
out warning, as I did. I went over headfirst 
and jammed my nose on the bottom. No, of 
course I wasn’t hurt. Here it is. Wait, now, 
till I get down. I’ll bring the torch.” 

Fearfully, under Valerie’s direction, Rose¬ 
mary straightened up, fumbled about and 
found the edge of the miniature precipice. 
The darkness was suddenly cut by a dazzling 
beam of light below her, and she saw Valerie’s 
smiling face looking upward. 

“That’s right, swing your feet over. Now. 
Just let go. Don’t be afraid, I’ll catch you.” 

Without giving herself time to think, Rose¬ 
mary slid forward. A breathless rush through 
space, and she landed on her feet, in Valerie’s 
arms. The two girls were standing in warm 
water up to their shoulders. 

Valerie pointed the torch toward a rocky 
ledge at the right. “Can you scramble up 
there? O. K.” She gave Rosemary a boost, 
and swung herself up beside her. “Well, here 
we are,” she observed serenely. 


198 THE RANEES RUBY 

“And am I glad!” Rosemary drew a long 
breath. “What in the world have you been 
doing down here all this time, Valerie? I 
thought I’d go crazy, sitting there for hours 
and hours, imagining all the horrible things 
that might have happened to you.” 

“Hours and hours!” Valerie laughed. “My 
dear, it must have been all of twenty minutes! 
Untie your trick knots, will you? The rope 
will be a help to shin up the waterfall when 
we go back, but it’s a nuisance when I try to 
move around.” 

Rosemary complied. She let the freed rope- 
end slide down into the pool, and peered about 
her. “What is this place, Valerie?” she asked 
curiously. 

“It seems to be a cave. Wait a minute.” 
Valerie adjusted the flashlight, so that the 
single sharp ray widened to a glow which 
spread in every direction. “There. Isn’t it 
pretty?” 

“Oh!” Rosemary caught her breath. “Why, 
it’s — it’s marvelous!” 

Over their heads arched a low rounded roof 
lined with jagged crystals. They were of 
vivid yellow, shading into browns and greens, 
their edges as sharp-cut as diamonds. Where- 


THE JEWELED CAVE 199 

ever the lamplight touched them, they glittered 
blindingly, reminding Rosemary of nothing 
else so much as the gem-lined cave of the Forty 
Thieves. 

“Are they — jewels?” she asked in awe¬ 
struck tones. 

Valerie laughed. “Mercy, no. Just rock 
formation — quartz, I think they call it. 
Haven’t you ever seen crystal caves before? 
There’s a wonderful one in Ohio Father and 
I visited once. It didn’t have these lovely 
colors, though. I suppose it’s the sulphur 
from the water that does that.” 

“It comes right down over the water, like 
a cup, doesn’t it?” Rosemary looked around 
her. The cave was not large, and except for 
the narrow ledge upon which the girls were 
perched, the lower part was completely covered 
by the pool into which they had slid. In a far 
corner a gurgle of water showed where, as the 
pool constantly overflowed, the underground 
stream continued on its way through a narrow 
crevice into unguessed recesses of the earth. 
Through other and smaller crevices gusts of 
chilly wind occasionally stirred, and the air 
here was perceptibly less warm than the spring 
house they had left. 


200 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

“Had enough sight-seeing?” Valerie asked. 
“There’s some serious business before the 
house, remember?” 

“Serious business? What? Oh, you mean 
hunting for the Ruby. Honestly, all that 
seems so far away I’d almost forgotten about 
it.” 

“Well, I haven’t. This is our last chance, 
and if it fails us — ! Have you got your 
breath back, darling? I want you to sit here 
and hold the torch — point it down, like this, 
to the bottom of the pool. Now keep it 
there.” 

“But what are you going to do?” Rosemary 
asked, as Valerie slid lightly into the water. 

“Watch. And keep the light in front of 
me, please.” 

Valerie took a deep breath, and swiftly 
plunged beneath the water. The surface of 
the pool churned with her movements; pres¬ 
ently she reappeared, smiling, shaking back 
her drenched hair. 

“Getting warm!” she exclaimed trium¬ 
phantly. Over her head she waved a sodden 
bit of bark, shredded and dank. “Oh, Rose¬ 
mary, this is too good to be true!” 



CHAPTER XIX 

WHERE THE LITTLE BOATS GO 

“But what is it?” Rosemary asked, scanning 
the dripping fibres with some distaste. 

“Don’t you know? Rosemary, think. Ku- 
mari’s little boats, made of bark. Her offer¬ 
ings to Parvati, which Dorcas told us she put 
into the water — don’t you remember what 
Dr. Marcus suggested about that? The poor 
simple creature thought they would go sail¬ 
ing along under the earth, until they came to 
light again at Parvati’s shrine in Hamir. 
They did sail away out of her sight, under the 
arch, but this is as close as they got to India. 
They were upset and soaked as they came 
over the waterfall, and they’re down there at 
the bottom of the pool. They’ve been there 
all these years.” 

“Valerie — why, how queer! But I don’t 

— you don’t think — ” 

201 


see - 


202 THE RANEE S RUBY 

“I do think,” Valerie answered, with a 
mighty effort at calmness. “I was afraid to 
hope till I found this, but now — You see, 
Rosemary, the little boats had to stop some¬ 
where. I didn’t know where, when I started 
down here. For all I knew, they might have 
found easy sailing for miles, farther than I 
could hope to follow. I didn’t even know but 
that they did go to Hamir, for that matter! 
Let me tell you it was a load off my mind when 
I realized that they couldn’t very well have 
gone past this cave. That was why I rushed 
back for you. Now that there really is a 
chance, a good chance, of winding up our 
search in a blaze of glory — well, of course you 
had to be in on it, Rosemary. You don’t think 
I meant to cheat you out of the end, do you? 
Just because I didn’t want you to come this 
morning? You see, I thought I’d do a little 
quiet exploration first, and then come and 
wake you up if there seemed any hope at all. 
You know I wouldn’t be such a pig, after all 
you’ve done, as to find the Ruby all by my¬ 
self?” 

“Bless your heart, of course I know that!” 
Rosemary answered affectionately. “Never 


WHERE LITTLE BOATS GO 203 

mind about my wounded feelings. Do you 
actually mean that you think we’re going to 
find the Ruby here? Oh, Valerie, this is ex¬ 
citing! Did Kumari put it on a boat, then? 
But whyV 3 

“Why not?” Valerie was still standing 
in the water, leaning against the ledge where 
Rosemary sat. Her face in the torchlight was 
serious now. “She had to do something with 
it. She couldn’t keep it, both because she 
might be searched and because, as you sug¬ 
gested yourself, she would be afraid the god¬ 
dess would be displeased. She couldn’t give 
it back to the Princess without letting the 
Rajah know it had not been stolen in Amer¬ 
ica.” 

“But we thought she might have given it to 
Bhagwan Das or Bir Bal,” Rosemary ven¬ 
tured. 

“Yes, but what would they do with it? 
Even if they waited and returned it to the 
Princess after the Rajah’s death — well, she’d 
wear it if she had it, wouldn’t she? She was 
supposed to wear it. And Dr. Marcus’s friend 
couldn’t help knowing that, could he? No, 
it’s never been returned to its owner, I’m sure 


204 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

of that. And I don’t believe either Bir Bal or 
Bhagwan Das would want to keep it. They 
may not have been so superstitious as Kumari, 
but Bhagwan Das’s letter told us that they 
were followers of Parvati, and I can’t think 
they’d risk offending her by keeping a sacred 
charm their Princess was supposed to wear.” 

“I’m sure you’re right about that,” Rose¬ 
mary agreed. “It’s puzzled me, ever since 
we agreed that Kumari took the Ruby, to 
know what she could have done with it. 
There are perfectly good objections to her hav¬ 
ing done anything I could possibly imagine.” 

“Except this!” Valerie said eagerly. “Re¬ 
member, Rosemary, she believed that her little 
boats sailed safely to Hamir. Then why not 
send the Ruby back in the same way? It 
would be under the protection of the goddess 
when it reached her shrine — no harm could 
come to it there, and Kumari could recover 
it when she returned to India. And give it 
back to the Princess, I suppose.” 

“Valerie, I do believe you’ve hit on it!” 
Rosemary’s tone was solemn. “From what 
we know of Kumari, it’s exactly what she 
might be expected to do. Oh, and listen!” 


WHERE LITTLE BOATS GO 205 

Sudden excitement quickened her speech. 
“Do you remember what Dr. Marcus told us 
about Kumari? I mean about her having be¬ 
come a holy woman?” 

“Why, yes, but — ” 

“Oh, you don’t remember! Don’t you know 
— she sits motionless before the shrine, day 
and night? Think what that means, Valerie! 
She’s sitting there on purpose, waiting — 
waiting for the Ruby-boat to come sailing 
home!” 

“And I tried to leave you behind!” There 
was genuine respect in the look Valerie turned 
upon her friend. “Well, this is the last word. 
Everything, every last little point, is cleared 
up now. From start to finish, we know the 
story of the Ruby and what happened to it. 
Now” she clenched her teeth in her determina¬ 
tion, “Now there’s only one thing left — to 
find the Ruby itself.” 

She gave Rosemary’s hand a hard squeeze, 
and was gone. In suspense almost unbear¬ 
able, Rosemary held the light, waiting until 
the sleek head again appeared out of the water. 

Double handfuls of debris were laid in Rose¬ 
mary’s lap, and eagerly the two girls sorted 



206 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

it out. There were more bits of bark, brittle 
thorny sticks that might once have been rose 
stems; something round and hard that was 
only a peach stone. 

Undismayed, Valerie went back and back, 
working her way now close to the waterfall, 
where the smooth rock bed was more thickly 
littered with the wreckage of Kumari’s offer¬ 
ings. 

Strange things she found; a bit of copper 
wire twisted into the semblance of a swastika; 
bright pieces of broken china and colored 
glass; the decorated top of a candy box. Such 
treasures as a child might choose for her play¬ 
house the Hindu woman had offered to please 
her mysterious goddess. The water had long 
since destroyed other offerings of flowers and 
fruit, but there could be no doubt that this 
was indeed the port where Kumari’s little 
boats had come to harbor. 

For perhaps the tenth time Rosemary saw 
Valerie take that long deep breath and disap¬ 
pear under the water. To the watcher on 
the ledge it seemed that she stayed down a 
longer time than usual; when she came up she 
did not, as before, rush to lay her find in Rose- 


WHERE LITTLE BOATS GO 207 

mary s lap. Instead she waded very slowly 
toward her, her eyes luminous in her small 
face, her hands tensely grasping a small dark 
mass which might have been anything. 

“I think I’ve got it this time,” she said, in 
low, awed tones. “It wasn’t in the water at 
all, but on a kind of little shelf behind the 
waterfall — the water must have tossed it 
there as it came over, and it’s lain there ever 
since. It was hardly wet, except from the 
spray, till I pulled it out through the water. 
Here, take it.” 

She put it into Rosemary’s hand, using her 
own two hands to pull herself up on the ledge 
beside her. “Turn the torch this way,” she 
urged. “Now — let’s see.” 

The thing she had found was a six-inch boat 
of wood, not bark, perfectly fashioned and 
well preserved. Flakes of gilt paint clung 
to the sides; this had been a golden boat once, 
a royal barge. The high prow bore a roughly 
carved figurehead which might have repre¬ 
sented a woman. A jaunty little mast still 
firmly upright fluttered a shred of tattered 
silk. 

The body of the boat was of solid wood. 


208 THE RANEES RUBY 

Amidships it was wound round and round 
with fine brass wire, the strands so close to¬ 
gether as to make a solid gleaming girdle. 

With a half-fearful glance at Rosemary, 
Valerie began unwinding this wire. Her sen¬ 
sitive fingers told her that there was something 
other than wood beneath it; a cavity hollowed 
out and covered over with the protecting wire. 
As the first strands unwound she gave an ex¬ 
cited exclamation. Underneath was the dull 
gleam of faded crimson silk. 

Impatiently Valerie twitched away the loos¬ 
ened wire and turned the boat upside down 
on her palm. She scarcely dared look at the 
thing which lay there. It was something 
wrapped in crackling silk, tied tight with silken 
threads which parted as she pulled gently at 
them — something which, as the protecting silk 
fell away, leaped into pulsating, crimson life 
— something in whose depths moved flame 
and smoke, a smoldering imprisoned fire of 
deeper, richer hue than the fire of homely 
kitchen stoves. The mock jewels of the cave- 
roof lost their beauty now, becoming but 
tawdry bits of glass before the sombre majesty 
of this royal gem. 

Those crimson flames had gleamed upon the 



WHERE LITTLE BOATS GO 209 

white neck of the first Roshanara, Ranee of 
Chitor, when her couriers brought the news 
that her husband had fallen and her city was 
doomed. Her faith in their sacred power had 
comforted her as she transferred the jewel to 
the infant daughter whose only hope lay in 
flight. Serenely confident that the Ruby 
would protect the one of all most dear to her, 
Roshanara, with high-hearted Rajput cour¬ 
age, turned to the supreme sacrifice. She was 
of no mind to live, widowed, a helpless vassal 
at the mercy of the barbarian conqueror. 
Calmly she arrayed herself in her loveliest 
garments and all her jewels, summoning the 
noblest of her ladies to do likewise. Then 
with her own unfaltering hand she applied the 
brand which made of her palace a smoking 
ruin to mock the invaders. 

Valerie stirred and sighed, withdrawing her 
eyes reluctantly from the smoky depths which 
seemed to draw her as by some age-old spell. 
There was no need to question or to wonder. 
In all the world there could not be two gems 
like this. 

“We’ve found it, Rosemary,” she whis¬ 
pered tremulously. “This is the Ranee’s 
Ruby.” 


CHAPTER XX 
TWO MONTHS LATER 

“All ashore that’s going ashore!” 

The bugle sounded; the decks of the great 
liner were a flurry of confused farewells. 

“We’ll be right here at the rail, Timmy 
darling,” Rosemary promised the excited small 
boy who danced about her. “Find a good 
place on the dock where you can wave to us 
until we’re out of sight. Yes, I’ll try to 
bring you back an elephant, but don’t count 
on it, honey. I’ll bring something nice, any¬ 
way. Mums, dearest,” she buried her head 
for a moment on a familiar shoulder, “You’re 
sure you can spare me?” 

Mrs. Lovell laughed cheerily. “Spare you? 
My dear, this is going to be the making of 
our paper. A foreign correspondent — first¬ 
hand inside news from a Ranee’s court. Why, 
there isn’t a big city paper that won’t be en¬ 
vying us. You won’t forget? A regular 

210 


TWO MONTHS LATER 211 

news-letter every week, and all the snapshots 
you can get. Yes, Hr. Marcus, I know we 
must go. Good-by, sweetheart! I’m so 
happy for you. And so happy for myself, 
to be taking Timmy home strong and well, 
and to have my daughter honored by a queen 
— really, it’s just too much! Good-by, dear, 
and bless you!” 

Mr. Porter handed Valerie a folded paper. 
“Take care of this, dear, it’s your receipt for 
the Ruby in the purser’s safe. Give it to the 
man from Cook’s who will meet you at Liver¬ 
pool; he’ll see that the Ruby is safely aboard 
the boat for Calcutta, along with you two 
girls. And give that receipt to Hr. Khusru 
when he meets you there — I don’t want you 
to have the responsibility for losing it now.” 

Valerie laughed. “It’s funny, all these pre¬ 
cautions to take care of the Ruby, and it lay 
neglected in a spring for twenty years! Yes, 
Father, I’ll remember everything. You’ll 
meet us in New York when we get back? 
Hoes it seem queer not to be a patient any 
longer? You’ll remember what Hr. Bow¬ 
man told you, won’t you, and not overwork 
again? Promise me! Father — ” she hesi- 


212 THE RANEES RUBY 

tated a minute, “Have you thought over my 
plan; you know, the one I suggested last 
night? Are you going to say yes?” 

Mr. Porter smiled, and nodded. “It’s yes, 
if that’s what you want, Valerie.” 

“Oh, good!” She gave him an ecstatic 
squeeze, and turned to Miss Lucia, who was 
smilingly awaiting her turn to say good-by. 
“Surprise, Miss Lucia! You’re going to have 
another new pupil. Will you let me enroll 
at Hollingsworth Hall when I come back?” 

“I shall be very happy, my dear.” The lit¬ 
tle lady beamed. “Yes, Marcus, I know we 
mustn’t stay. You’ll tell Roshanara, won’t 
you, girls — you’ll make it very clear to her 
that Marcus and I hold no resentment? I 
shouldn’t like her to think — ” 

“Don’t worry, Miss Lucia, I’ll see that she 
doesn’t.” Valerie bent to give her a hearty 
hug. “Good-by, Dr. Marcus — no, we won’t 
forget your messages, any of them. I expect 
the mission will be running full blast by the 
time you finish your speaking tour and get 
back to it. Isn’t it wonderful that the 
Ranee’s giving you that enormous endowment? 
Good-by everybody — Good-by!” 



TWO MONTHS LATER 213 

Slowly, majestically, the liner moved away 
from the pier. The two girls leaned over the 
rail and waved frantically. The group they 
had left behind waved back; little Timmy held 
high on Mr. Porter’s shoulder, Rosemary’s 
mother on tiptoe, Dr. Marcus supporting Miss 
Lucia as she blew kisses with both tiny hands. 
Gradually the faces grew smaller, grew blurred 
and indistinct, fading into the mass of strange 
faces about them. 

“Well, we’re off!” Valerie turned to Rose¬ 
mary with a sigh and a smile. “Want to go 
down to our cabin now?” 

“I should say not!” Rosemary answered em¬ 
phatically. “I’m going to stay right here at 
this rail as long as there’s light to see. Do 
you realize that this is my very first glimpse 
of the ocean, and ships, and — ” 

“Begging your pardon, Miss,” came the 
deferential voice of a steward behind them. 
“I have taken the liberty of arranging your 
chairs over there. Would that be satisfactory, 
Miss?” 

“Thanks, steward, this is splendid.” Val¬ 
erie led the way to the two deck chairs, and 
sank into hers with a sigh of content. “This 


214 THE RANEES RUBY 

gives you a better view of the shore, Rose¬ 
mary. Now you can watch it till it disap¬ 
pears.” 

“Oh, Valerie, it’s all too marvelous!” Rose¬ 
mary exclaimed. “Honestly, I still think it’s 
a dream, and I’ll have to wake up. ' To be 
going to India, the guest of a queen — me, 
little Rosemary Lovell from Kansas! No, it 
isn’t real, it can’t be!” 

“It’s pretty splendid of Roshanara, at that,” 
Valerie observed. “Do you know, when we 
found the Ruby, and Dr. Marcus cabled the 
news to his friend, I couldn’t help wondering 
how she’d take it. She had been wrong, or 
her father had, and I had a notion that roy¬ 
alty wasn’t very fond of admitting that. The 
most I expected was a stiff letter of thanks to 
us, and a formal apology to Dr. Marcus and 
Miss Lucia. I didn’t dream that she’d be 
sorry, and ashamed, and anxious to make 
amends, just like a regular human being.” 

“I’ve never seen anything so sweet as the 
letter she wrote Miss Lucia,” Rosemary said. 
“She’d loved her all the time, or wanted to. 
But Kumari insisted that Miss Lucia was an 
enemy who must be held at a distance — 


TWO MONTHS LATER 215 

heaven knows what poison she poured into the 
poor child’s ears! Kumari taught her that 
speech Miss Lucia told us about — you know, 
T am the Princess Royal’ and all the rest of 
it. She didn’t more than half know what she 
was saying, poor little thing. And those or¬ 
ders that she must eat alone — Kumari told 
Miss Lucia the Princess wanted it, and she 
told the Princess that the others refused to 
eat with her. I do think that something ought 
to be done to Kumari, even now.” 

“Oh, no, Rosemary! Kumari was only a 
servant, she had to follow out Bir Bal’s or¬ 
ders. Besides, she was really attached to the 
Princess, and thought what she was doing was 
for her good. I don’t blame Roshanara a bit 
for refusing to punish Kumari. 

“She’s making up for it, anyhow, by what 
she’s doing to Bhagwan Das,” Valerie went 
on. “I can think of a lot of people I’d 
rather be right now than that gentleman.” 

“Me too! Did you see what Dr. Khusru 
wrote to Dr. Marcus about it? He is to be 
publicly degraded. That means that not only 
will all his possessions be taken from him, but 
he’ll be stripped of his robes of office in the 


216 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

presence of the whole court, dressed in the 
sackcloth of a beggar and flogged to the fron¬ 
tier. And it’s death if he ever sets foot in 
Patipur again. The Ranee has been kindness 
itself to us, but she’s certainly stern enough 
when she wants to be.” 

“Well, you can’t blame her, Rosemary. It 
was a terrible crime, by Rajput standards. 
Dr. Marcus was trying to explain it to me. 
We think about the suffering Bhagwan Das 
caused here, and feel that maybe since Miss 
Lucia and Dr. Marcus forgive him, the Ranee 
should, too. But that isn’t the way she looks 
at it. ‘Honor’, to a Rajput, is the highest 
thing in the world — that’s the one good thing 
their religion teaches them. Bir Bal and 
Bhagwan Das were Rajput nobles, and noth¬ 
ing can excuse their having stooped to a dis¬ 
honorable act. And what makes it worst of 
all is that they involved the Rajah in it. Be¬ 
cause of what they did the Rajah was guilty 
of injustice, and he was a man whose very 
name meant justice in his country. Dr. Mar¬ 
cus says Bhagwan Das is lucky to get off with 
his life. He certainly deserves all he’s get¬ 
ting.” 


TWO MONTHS LATER 217 

I suppose so.” Rosemary’s heart was 
tender, but her sense of justice was strong, 
and it was impossible to feel a great deal of 
sympathy for the treacherous Bhagwan Das. 
“I hope it’s all over with before we arrive, 
though. I don’t want to see it.” 

“Don’t worry, it will be.” Valerie smiled. 
“The Ranee is too furious to wait that long. 
Besides, our visit isn’t going to be spoiled by 
any unpleasant happenings. It’s going to be 
one grand rejoicing. Feasting, games, pro¬ 
cessions — you may not be able to bring 
Timmy back an elephant, darling, but you can 
certainly bring him a snapshot of his sister 
riding one.” 

“My gracious, Valerie! Who told you all 
that?” 

“The Ranee. She told you, too. Don’t 
you remember, in her letter to us she said 
she was planning to hold a Durbar in our 
honor? I asked Dr. Marcus, and that’s what 
it means. A sort of carnival, with every one 
stopping work to celebrate. One long Fourth 
of July, if you know what I mean.” 

“Oh, my goodness! What does she want 
to do that for? We’re not that important!” 


218 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

“But we are, darling,” Valerie insisted, 
half-seriously. “You don’t seem to realize 
how very important we are, in Patipur. 
We’ve restored the Ranee’s Ruby. I don’t 
know anything to compare it with, in this 
country. If some one had stolen — oh, say 
the Liberty Bell, or the original Declaration 
of Independence; you’d expect a big fuss to 
be made over the people who got it back, 
wouldn’t you? Well, the Ranee’s Ruby means 
even more to the people of Patipur than those 
things do to us.” 

“But it seems silly, Valerie. After all, it’s 
just a jewel for the queen to wear. What dif¬ 
ference can it make to the people of the coun¬ 
try whether it’s restored or not?” 

“Oh, Rosemary, you’re hopeless! Can’t you 
understand what tradition means? The Lib¬ 
erty Bell is just a bell that won’t even ring, 
but it stands for something, doesn’t it? Be¬ 
sides,” she went on practically, “as it hap¬ 
pens, the return of the Ruby does make a 
difference to the people of Patipur. I don’t 
think there’s any doubt, from what the Prin¬ 
cess wrote Dr. Marcus, that she means to go 
ahead with the modernization program her 


TWO MONTHS LATER 219 

father abandoned. If the people of Patipur 
get schools, and electric lights, and decent 
houses to live in, it’ll be because we found the 
Ruby, and proved that Americans and their 
ways are to be trusted, after all.” 

“Valerie, it scares me,” Rosemary said sol¬ 
emnly. “To think that something we did — 
just we two girls, with no one to help us — 
is going to turn a whole country upside-down. 
The very thought of that is even more terrify¬ 
ing than — well, than the prospect of making 
my curtsy at court. And I don’t mind admit¬ 
ting that my knees wobble when I think of 
that.” 

“Mine don’t,” calmly replied Valerie. “To 
save my life I can’t think of Roshanara as a 
queen. All the time we were looking for the 
Ruby I thought of her as just a scared, spoiled 
little kid at a strange boarding school, not 
much different from what I remembered about 
myself. I think I sympathized with her more 
than you did, Rosemary, because I knew how 
it felt. And now, since those lovely letters, 
I think of her as a dear good friend, terribly 
ashamed of something that shouldn’t have been 
done and anxious to make up for it. All I 


220 THE RANEES RUBY 

want to do is to reassure her, to tell her that 
every one understands and nobody blames 
her.” 

“Her letters certainly don’t sound queenly,” 
Rosemary admitted. “She’s so sincere, and 
so almost humble about everything. But the 
way she throws money around is royal enough 
— she simply takes my breath away! Even 
your father was surprised when he found she’d 
engaged the Imperial suite on this boat for 
us. And that lavish letter of credit she sent 
each of us for traveling expenses — when we 
don’t even have any traveling expenses, be¬ 
cause she’d arranged for everything before¬ 
hand. It makes me uneasy, to think about 
taking it all. I suppose she’s trying to re¬ 
ward us, but — ” 

“But you’re wrong there, Rosemary. She 
isn’t trying to reward us that way. Money 
means nothing to her. She lives magnificently 
herself, and since we’re her guests she’s sim¬ 
ply offering us the sort of living she’s accus¬ 
tomed to. To refuse to accept her arrange¬ 
ments would be just as ungracious as — oh, as 
for us to tell Miss Lucia we don’t want lav¬ 
ender buds in our dresser drawers. No, she’s 


TWO MONTHS LATER 221 

rewarding us, all right, but not with money. 
That thought never entered her head.” 

The evening light was failing fast; the 
dwindling shore now was but a smear of 
shadow on the horizon. Most of the passen¬ 
gers had gone below; the corner where the 
two girls sat was quiet and deserted. After 
the excitement and bustle of the last few weeks 
it was pleasant to sit here, relaxed and at ease, 
feeling the throb of the great engines bearing 
them steadily forward into the open sea. 

Rosemary stirred from the pleasant reverie 
into which she had fallen. 

“I wish Miss Lucia could have come,” she 
said wistfully. “The Ranee was so disap¬ 
pointed when she wrote that it would be im¬ 
possible.” 

“I’m sorry, too, but of course, with the 
school opening next week, she felt that she 
couldn’t be spared. I think she’d rather pay 
her visit later, though, when Dr. Marcus is 
there. Perhaps she’ll take the little Princess 
back.” 

“That would be nice. Valerie, you said a 
while ago that Roshanara is rewarding us, but 
not with money. You mean trusting the little 


222 THE RANEE’S RUBY 

Princess to us, to bring back to Miss Lucia, 
didn’t you?” 

“Yes. It seems to me that’s the highest 
honor she can pay us. I know I appreciate 
it more than anything else. And oh, I’m so 
glad about it all, for Miss Lucia’s sake. You 
know, she always reproached herself that she 
had failed to understand the Ranee when she 
was there, that she didn’t win her confidence 
and make her ‘feel at home. I think it’s per¬ 
fectly darling of the Ranee to understand that, 
and to give her the chance all over again, with 
her daughter.” 

“It’s lovely of her, isn’t it, Valerie? And 
I guess there’s no chance that Miss Lucia will 
fail with the new Roshanara.” 

“I know there isn’t,” Valerie answered 
grimly. “There’ll be no Kumari in the back¬ 
ground to make trouble this time. I haven’t 
told you yet, Rosemary,” she went on, rather 
shyly. “But the little Princess is going to 
have one friend at the school, among all those 
strangers. Some one she knows, and can 
trust to help her over the hard places.” 

“Some one she knows? But Valerie, who?” 
“Me.” 


TWO MONTHS LATER 223 

“Why, Valerie!” Rosemary twisted about 
to peer into her friend’s face. “Do you mean 
it? Are you actually going to school there? 
Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“It wasn’t settled until just before we sailed. 
Father and I talked it over last night, and 
this morning he said yes.” 

“But — but — ” vainly Rosemary tried to 
conceal her surprise. “Are you doing it just 
for the little Princess’s sake?” 

“No, only partly. I do want to be there 
with her. I’ve had such wretched times at 
new schools myself, and I think it would be 
a real help to her if she could have some one 
among the older girls to take her troubles to. 
I could talk to the other girls, you know, ex¬ 
plain to them the difference in the way she’s 
been brought up — oh, I know I could fix 
things so she’d never be homesick at all, but 
just have the most wonderful time from the 
start.” 

“Why, that’s lovely, Valerie. But — ” 
Rosemary hesitated. “It’s only that you al¬ 
ways sort of made fun of schools like that. 
You think they’re old-fashioned — ” 

“Well, they are. But I’m not sure that a 



224 THE RANEES RUBY 

year in an old-fashioned atmosphere would be 
a bad thing for me, Rosemary. You’ve al¬ 
ready admitted that a summer of it has im¬ 
proved me, and it’s certainly made me hap¬ 
pier. My — my mother was a boarding school 
girl, you know. I think it would make Father 
pretty happy if I could get to be more like 
her,” she finished wistfully. 

“Well, I think it’s wonderful, Valerie!” 
Rosemary exclaimed sincerely. “I shouldn’t 
be surprised if you find Miss Lucia’s course 
a little more up-to-date than you expect. And 
anyway, you’re so fond of her that you’re 
certain to be happy down there. It makes me 
a little homesick,” she finished frankly. “To 
think of you at dear old Hollingsworth Hall 
all winter, while I’m back in my perfectly 
everyday high school — ” 

“But you’ll come to visit us!” Valerie put 
in quickly. “I’ve already planned it, you’re 
coming for the Christmas holidays. You were 
my first friend, Rosemary; whatever comes, 
you’ll always be my best one. So don’t think 
I’m going to lose you just because we’re in 
different schools. I’m not going to lose you, 
ever, if I can help it.” 


TWO MONTHS LATER 225 

“Not much chance.” Rosemary spoke 
gruffly, to conceal her emotion. “Oh, Val¬ 
erie, I’ve just thought of something funny. 
Do you remember, ages ago, I warned you 
that I wasn’t making friends with you to get 
to go on a boat trip ? But we did make friends, 
and — here we are!” 

Valerie laughed, too, and rose from her 
chair. “Yes, and I remember you said some¬ 
thing about being seasick. I don’t want to 
discourage you, my dear, but I’m certain those 
waves are getting higher every minute. 
Maybe we’d better betake ourselves down to 
the Imperial suite, just in case.” 

“Who’s afraid?” Rosemary made an im¬ 
pudent little face at the tumbling waters. 
“Bring on your ocean! After all we’ve been 
through, it’ll take more than a few big waves 
to scare us” 

“I agree,” Valerie said gravely. “It’s per¬ 
fectly plain that those waves don’t know 
whom they’re threatening. Out of our path, 
sea! Make way for the guests of Her High¬ 
ness the Ranee of Patipur!” 

























































































































































































































































































